


Heart Over Ice

by lavenderbones



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Banter, Binge Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Dark subject matter, Disassociation, Discussion of Death, Discussion of Rape, Discussion of sexual assult, Drug Dealing, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, First Aid, Fluff and Angst, Implied Necrophilia, Izaya Being Izaya (Durarara!!), Izaya is an asshole, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mentions of Yakuza, Minor Character Death, Minor Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Protective Heiwajima Shizuo, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Sexual Assault, Shizuo-centric, Sleep Paralysis, Thoughts of Self-harm, Torture, Trauma, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Victim Blaming, Whump, Whumptober 2020, aka Shizuo typical violence, discussion of trauma, discussion of triggers, drug induced paralysis, explicit descriptions of panic attacks, humour as a coping mechanisim, intentionally triggering a panic attack, intentionally triggering someone with trauma, it's gonna hurt before it gets better, minor original characters, seriously mind the tags, shizaya whumptober, tenses never met her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderbones/pseuds/lavenderbones
Summary: Shizuo witnesses an incredible act of violence against his most hated enemy. Left to pick up the pieces, he finds himself experiencing unwanted side-effects, all while forced to deal with the very person he claims to hate.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson
Comments: 58
Kudos: 198





	1. Over Ice

_Over ice, I'm freezing  
Beautiful eyes, deceiving  
We may die this evening  
Coughing, wheezing, bleeding_

-Righteous by Juice WRLD

* * *

When Shizuo decided to head to Shinjuku to beat up flea the last thing he expected to see when he kicked down the door was Izaya’s lifeless eyes staring back at him.

It had been surprisingly quiet the past couple of months, so much so that Shizuo had started to become suspicious. Like any rational person, Shizuo could only come the conclusion that his arch nemesis was up to no good. Which in turn had brought him here.

Shizuo stood frozen in the threshold.

Izaya was spread out on that ridiculously expensive sectional couch of his, head and feet only visible as another body covered his. Cold fear gripped Shizuo as he recognized the sound of grunting. The way the body atop of Izaya’s was _rutting_.

It was nauseating the way Izaya’s head moved with the motion, his body completely limp and weak against the force bearing down on it. Shizuo felt like he was experiencing second hand motion sickness but he couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The man hadn’t even realised that he was no longer alone; his face pressed into Izaya’s neck, his hands down Izaya’s pants … too focused on chasing his own revolting pleasure.

**“What the fuck are you doing!?”**

Shizuo’s deafening bellow shook the entire apartment. The man leapt back from the flea like he had been electrocuted. Shizuo could barely breathe through the churning of his stomach, the feeling as if he had swallowed live snakes, to take in the fact that both Izaya and the man were still fully clothed.

No. All Shizuo could see was the _fucking tent_ in this would-be rapist’s pants.

Shizuo shot forward with an inhuman roar. The man didn’t even have a chance to raise his arms and shield his head before Shizuo smashed in his face with a fist.

The man’s nose shattered, fragmenting and flattening as the momentum sent him flying. With the same force that had sent others into the sky, the man crashed against the bookshelves lining the wall behind him with a sickening crunch. His body seemed to suspend upright for a moment, pinned by the force of Shizuo’s fury, before it slid down and lay crumpled on the ground.

_Killkillkillfuckkillwhatkillthefuck._

Shizuo’s rage was floundering among a sea of cold dread.

Fear gripped his heart. _Pierced_ it.

He was by Izaya’s side in an instant, kneeling beside those stupid fucking plush couch cushions.

“Flea…”

Shaking fingers turned Izaya’s face towards him. Shizuo had always thought the louse was pale, but his skin was shock white now and he fully expected it to be cold to the touch. Shizuo was stunned to feel the warmth of life under his hands. A direct contradiction to the flea’s empty stare.

He looks dead.

Shizuo’s mind was splitting apart. It couldn’t catch up with what his body was seeing, not able to deal with the fear that was clawing up his throat and making him tremble. He struggled to gain control over the panic, he had to push it aside, had to do _something_.

Shizuo pulled out his phone, quickly calling one of his limited number of contacts.

Those few seconds waiting as his phone rang out were agony.

“Hello Shizuo-kun~!” Shinra’s bright voice chirped down the line. “To what do I owe-,”

“-The flea’s hurt.”

Shizuo doesn’t know if it was his words that cut Shinra off or the way his voice shook. There was silence for a second, and then, “where are you?”

‘What did you do’ was left unsaid, Shinra’s tone shifting from peppy to professional.

“Are you in danger?”

“No, but Shinra he’s not _moving_ ,” Shizuo’s panic manifested physically, he gripped the flea’s shoulder and shook him, as if it could somehow magically snap him out of the strange trance-like state he was in.

“Shizuo,” Shinra’s voice was low and serious, a far cry from his usual lilt. Shizuo held onto it like a lifeline. “I need you take a long, deep breath for me.”

“I-I _can’t_.”

“Yes you can, I’m going to talk you through it.”

Shizuo couldn’t feel his own body, couldn’t feel his chest, and if he couldn’t feel his chest then how was he supposed to make his lungs do something as simple and instinctual as _breathing_.

“One, two, three … a big breath in- yeah they’re you go,” Shizuo’s body followed Shinra’s words like gospel. It seemed it had gotten fed up with the absolute mess of Shizuo’s panicked mind and was going to seek the voice of common sense coming from his phone instead. “Hold it … that’s it, okay now let it go.”

Letting go and exhaling that one breathe was like flickering lights in Shizuo’s head finally stabilising. He repeated the process again: inhale, hold, exhale.

“Where are you?”

“Shinjuku.”

“At Izaya’s?”

Shizuo nodded, then realised Shinra couldn’t see it over the phone, “yeah.”

“I’m on my way,” Shizuo could hear the sound of Shinra moving around. “Stay on the line Shizuo.”

“…Yeah,” Shizuo seemed incapable of more than one-word answers. He didn’t think he could handle anything more complicated than Shinra’s short, direct questions either. It must be intentional on the doctor’s part.

“I need you tell me if Izaya has a pulse.”

Shizuo felt a strangled sound get caught in his throat. Fuck, a pulse, right. Why was it that all common sense had been pushed from his head?

_Inhale_.

Shizuo struggled to muster enough willpower to physically force his hand from Izaya’s shoulder, the muscles clenched painfully tight. Trying, and failing, to ignore brown eyes staring up at him lifelessly. Shizuo moved his hand to the flea’s neck, pushing two fingers in against his pulse point.

_Hold._

For one terrifying second, one second that seemed to last a lifetime, Shizuo felt nothing. And then…

_Exhale_.

Shizuo felt dizzy at the comforting thump-thump under his fingers. “Fuck,” a breathless laugh escaped him, “yes … yes he’s got a pulse.”

He didn’t have the mental capacity to analyse what exactly this all meant for him, all Shizuo could focus on was the absolute relief that flooded his veins. He felt jittery with it; like it was a drug injected directly into his bloodstream.

“Okay, good, that’s good … now I need you to check his breathing.”

_Fuck_.

Shizuo really should have known it was too early to celebrate. Emboldened by proof of life under his fingers, Shizuo quickly nodded to himself. He could do this. Just breathe.

“What do I do?”

Shizuo could hear the way Shinra’s voice evened out slightly, less sharp and stark, relief at Izaya’s survival and Shizuo’s gaining competence. “Look to see if his chest is rising and falling.”

Shizuo stared at the flea’s torso, afraid to blink in case he missed something. “It’s moving … I think?” It didn’t seem like very much to Shizuo, whose own chest had only moments ago been heaving. “Not very much though.”

“That’s okay,” Shinra’s soothed over the line, “now I want you to put your ear over his mouth and nose, you should be able to hear his breathing and feel it against your cheek.”

In any other situation, Shizuo would have visibly recoiled of just the thought of getting so close to the louse. Now however, he followed Shinra’s instructions to the letter, no sign of hesitation whatsoever.

“Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, but,” a small puff air, barely a caress against his cheek, “it’s so…”

“Short?”

“Yeah and,” Shizuo frowned, trying to think of the right words to describe the almost non-existent breath against his face. He had to lean in so close that he was almost touching Izaya’s face to even feel anything. “Shallow.”

“Okay,” it didn’t sound very okay to Shizuo. “Are you okay?”

No, Shizuo was not fucking okay, but that didn’t matter right now. “What should I do?”

“Monitor his breathing, if it stops you will need to preform CPR. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”

Trying to ignore the vision of crushing the flea’s torso under his palms if he even tried, Shizuo straightened up, eyes straining as they followed the feeble rise and fall of the flea’s chest.

“Can you tell me if he is hurt anywhere? Does he have any injuries?”

If not for his rumpled clothes or dead-eyed stare, Shizuo wouldn’t know anything was actually wrong with the flea. Shizuo couldn’t help but take in the way Izaya’s collar was stretched, as if someone had yanked it down to expose his skin. The plastic of his phone creaked under his hand as his gaze moved downwards; he couldn’t break his phone, he needed Shinra to keep talking to him or he would go insane.

Izaya’s pants were half undone and pulled low on his hips, belt split in two at the buckle. Shizuo snarled out loud at the dark stain on Izaya’s jeans at his upper thigh.

_KillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillKILL._

“Shizuo are you still there? Are you okay?”

Why the fuck did Shinra keep asking if he was okay? He wasn’t, but it didn’t matter so shut the fuck up already.

“I-I …,” Shizuo was shaking with rage, desperate to not crush his phone, to not stand up and rip that piece of shit’s fucking head off. “I don’t think he’s injured.”

Not physically anyway.

“Okay. That’s good,” Shinra’s repetition was somehow comforting. He kept saying those words like a mantra. “You’re doing great Shizuo.”

“He isn’t moving Shinra, _why isn’t he moving_?” Shizuo spoke in a voice he didn’t even recognise. Weak and pathetic and _shaking_.

“It will be okay Shizuo, just breathe.”

“I don’t want to fucking breathe,” Shizuo growled down the phone, misplaced anger turning on the only available outlet. “I want to beat the fucking shit out of that son of a bitch.”

“Please do not do that,” Shinra no doubt thought Shizuo was talking about Izaya. “What happened? Did you two get into another fight?”

“What!?” Shizuo felt his body recoil at just the idea, “I would _never_ -,”

“-Okay, okay,” Shinra cut over his ranting, “please just try and stay calm.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m almost there, just hang on.”

Shinra kept talking to him, kept asking how Izaya’s breathing was (no change), kept telling him to inhale, hold, exhale. Shizuo could only kneel by the flea’s side, small tremors going through his body as he struggled to follow Shinra’s instructions and just keep breathing.

At some point he had pulled up a blanket from the end of the couch and covered Izaya with it. Part of him was worried the flea might be cold, another just couldn’t stand looking at that dark stain on denim anymore. Shizuo thought maybe he should try and close Izaya’s pants, but his hands shook so much at just the thought of it that he quickly abandoned the idea.

Once he was covered Shizuo had nowhere left to look but his face. He could almost see his head bobbing with that earlier motion again.

Shizuo scrubbed a hand over his own face, clinging to the soothing words Shinra repeated by his ear. “It’s okay, you’re doing great. I’m almost there, you’re going to be alright.”

Shizuo was trapped in Izaya’s eyes. His pupils were blown wide, almost eclipsing all of the colour of his iris. It was funny, Shizuo had always described the flea’s brown eyes as red, like a demon’s. Looking now, at the thin sliver still visible, Shizuo thought they were almost an oaky whiskey colour.

_Are you awake flea? Can you see me?_

Shinra had asked Shizuo if he was conscious, to which Shizuo had replied with a meek ‘I don’t know.’ Izaya’s eyes were open, and no matter what Shizuo thought, he wasn’t staring at anything in particular. Though Shizuo felt as if those eyes were freezing him all the same.

It really did look like he was dead.

Shizuo had proved otherwise, but every few minutes he would check his pulse and breathing again just to make sure.

“Shizuo.”

It took him a moment to realise that Shinra had spoken from the doorway and not the phone. Shizuo stood up, his legs feeling numb beneath him as he pocketed the device.

Shinra waltzed into the apartment, white doctor’s coat flicking behind him with an almost righteous purpose.

Shizuo watched the way Shinra took in everything with clinical analysis. Shizuo, Izaya, the man passed out behind them. The doctor’s brow furrowed, but he gave no further indication he was perturbed.

With a particularly large exhale, Shizuo took a step away from the couch. Shinra knelt down almost exactly where Shizuo had been keeping watch, black medical bag beside him as he opened it and pulled out a stethoscope.

“Izaya can you hear me? Can you speak?” Shizuo didn’t know why Shinra even bothered asking, the flea silent in response. It was amazing how Shinra could sound so calm, as if he was only talking to a patient during a general check-up and not the flea’s petrified body. It helped ground Shizuo, just a little. “If you can hear me I want you to try and blink, okay?”

Izaya’s eyelids didn’t even flutter.

A growl came unbidden to his lips as Shinra ripped the blanket off Izaya with a cold detachment that seemed almost too severe to Shizuo. If he noticed the flea’s state of undress he didn’t mention it.

“Oi,” Shizuo warned as Shinra lifted Izaya’s black top up, exposing the pale white skin of his torso.

“I need to listen to his breathing.”

Fucking hell, Shizuo knew that. So why did his mind rebel so fiercely at the thought of hands on that unmoving body?

“Tell me what happened.”

Shizuo wanted a fucking cigarette so badly, but the flea would probably pissed as hell if he smoked in his apartment though.

_If he lives._

“I don’t fucking know,” Shizuo snapped, glaring at the white of the dry wall. He couldn’t look anywhere else without feeling like he would fracture. “I came here to beat the crap out of him and-,”

-Shizuo cut himself off, not sure exactly how to put what he witnessed into actual words.

“What’s wrong with him anyway?”

Shinra sighed as he shone the light of a mini torch into the flea’s eyes. “I can only theorise, but I think he’s been drugged.”

There was a ringing in his ears that felt like a gun had gone off next to his head, unbalancing him.

Drugged.

“Motherfucker!” Shizuo swung himself around to face the bookshelves, eyes landing on the crumpled form of-,“that fucking piece of shit!”

Shinra yelled out as he leapt over the couch, a thud coming from his feet as they impacted violently with the hardwood floors. “Shizuo!”

“I’m going to fucking kill him!” Shizuo would crush every bone in that prick’s body, would rip his arms off, then his legs, then his head, and then he would crush the pieces to dust.

“Stop it!” Shinra’s voice snapped across his haze, more forceful than he ever heard. “I need him to tell us what he drugged Izaya with or-,”

-Shinra stopped himself from finishing that sentence and Shizuo was extremely grateful for it.

His whole body was trembling. Hard. He wasn’t sure it had ever stopped. Looking down on the bastard that had done this, it took every ounce of willpower to hold himself back. Only Shinra’s words and the man’s unconscious and already bloody face stopped him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo wanted to clench his eyes shut at the soft way Shinra spoke behind him. “Izaya, it’s Shinra.”

_Why are you even bothering? It’s not like he’s awake. He’s not awake. Please don’t be awake._

“It’s going to be okay, Izaya.”

Shizuo’s jaw almost creaked at how hard he clenched his teeth.

_Breathe._

In what seemed like a blur to Shizuo, but was in reality a slow and steady pace, Shinra was at Shizuo’s side. Silver scalpel in hand.

“I need to talk to him.” Gone was any of the softness his voice held when he spoke to Izaya, all that remained in its wake was ice.

Even Shizuo had to admit he felt a little apprehensive at the dark look in the doctor’s eyes. “Can you wake him up without killing him?”

“Can’t you?” Shizuo shot back without thinking.

Shinra let out a laugh that was like stone scraping against concrete, “no … no I don’t think I can.”

_Inhale._

Shizuo kicked out none to gently at the man’s legs.

_Hold._

Another kick, “wake the fuck up.”

_Exhale._

Shizuo and Shinra listened to the low groan that came from the man. Hands went to his broken face, fingers feeling out the swollen and the bruised. “Fuck.”

His voice was high and weedy, grating on Shizuo’s already frayed nerves. Plain muddy brown eyes looked up, widening in fear at the sight of Shizuo.

“W-what the f-fuck are _you_ doing here?”

“Ah, I think we’ll be asking the questions, don’t you?” Shinra replied in a saccharine sweet voice frozen with malice. He raised the scalpel in his hand, the blade glinting in the light.

The man however thought Shizuo was the bigger threat. Wire thin arms struggled to push himself up and away from the blonde, but he only managed to slump his back against the bookshelf behind him.

“You broke my fucking nose!” The man hissed as his hands went to his face again. “What the fuck dude!”

Shizuo didn’t trust himself to speak, hands clenched at his side, fingernails digging into his palms.

_I should break more than that, you fucking deadshit._

If Shizuo opened his mouth it would open the floodgates and he would not be able to stop. He would tear this scum apart.

“What did you drug our friend with?” Ignoring the man’s pitiful complaints, Shinra squatted down in front of him. “I need to know the exact drug you used.”

“What does it fucking matter, shit…”

“It matters because the muscles around his lungs are paralysed, which in turn is affecting his breathing.”

“Hah,” the vermin spat out in amusement. “What a damn _shame_.”

Before Shizuo could make a move, before he could even let out an earth shattering roar, Shinra stabbed his scalpel down into the man’s foot.

Shizuo jumped at the ruthless action, the man howling as he kicked out at Shinra with his other leg. The blade had gone clean through the leather of his shoe, through skin and bone and blood, until it had come out the bottom of his foot and pinned him to the floor. Shinra had struck like a viper, no indication he was going to move until he was driving down viciously. 

“It seems you don’t quite realise the gravity of your situation,” Shinra ripped the scalpel out of the man’s foot with what Shizuo could only describe as _professionalism_. “You’re in the apartment of one of the most powerful men in the city, a man you have just attempted to assault, and not only him, but the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro … and then there’s me.”

Shinra gave Glasgow grin, so wide it was more of a gash across his face than anything resembling joy. “I’m a nobody really … but there is someone I love, and they would want me to help my friends. I can’t disappoint the one I love, you know?”

“I’m going to kill you four eyes! I’m going to fuck your scrawny little ass to _death_.”

_Killkillkillcrushkillcrushcrushkill._

“Oh?” Shinra sounded intensely amused by that, yet none of that humour reached his eyes. “But if you attack me, who is there to hold _him_ back?” The man looked fearfully back up at Shizuo as Shinra motioned over his shoulder.

“So why don’t you tell me what drugs you used, ne?” Shinra tilted his head, like a puppy almost. It didn’t match the sadistic and quite frankly, terrifying, expression on his face.

“Why should I? He’s just going to kill me!” The man spat at Shizuo’s feet.

“Perhaps,” Shinra replied thoughtfully, “but shouldn’t you be more worried about the time you have left alive?”

“What-,”

Shinra grabbed the man’s hand, scalpel coming to rest on the tip of his finger, just under the start of his nail. “Tell me. The drugs. You used.”

Shizuo couldn’t stop how his eyes closed as the screaming started. Even shut it was as he could see the way Shinra slowly pressed his scalpel in under the man’s nail against the back of his lids.

It was revolting.

It was righteous.

“Stop! Stop it!”

The screaming was clanging in his head like temple bell. It was almost worse with his eyes closed, the sound seeming all the more _heavy_.

“Why should I stop when you never have?”

Shizuo forced his eyes open as Shinra pulled back, the man held his arm to his chest and sobbed. “Please.”

“That was only one … you’ve got nine nails left, not to mention your toes.”

“Fuck … you fucking psycho!”

“What drugs did you use?”

“I don’t fucking know, okay!?” The man shouted at a thoroughly displeased looking Shinra. “I got them off some dealer.”

“It’s like you don’t even _want_ your fingernails,” Shinra sounded he was a parent dealing with an extremely spoilt child and not the attempted rapist he was currently torturing. “Oh well...”

“No, wait!” The man’s uninjured hand dove into his pocket, scrabbling to pull out a small vial. “Here, take it!”

Shinra snatched the empty vial from the man’s hand, quickly standing up as he read the label. “ _Vecuronium bromide_ , this … this is a medical grade neuromuscular-blocker.”

“Is that bad?” Shizuo asked with worry.

“Not exactly, but,” the man cringed as Shinra snapped that murderous look back on him, “how much did you dose him with?”

“Ha, like I know … enough to keep him down and,” -the man gave a bloody grin, “ _pliant_.”

_Motherfucker._

“At what time?”

“I don’t even know what time it is now … _he_ knocked my lights out.”

Shinra sighed, sounding weary of the man’s entire personality. Shizuo was also done with him, but he’d been done with him the moment he walked in the door.

“What is it?”

“This drug, when properly administered,” Shinra shot at the attacker accusingly, “should wear off in less than an hour or so.”

Fuck. How long had it been since Shizuo arrived? It seemed like years had passed since he first kicked down the door.

“It’s been around forty minutes since you called, so give or take twenty minutes,” Shinra calculated, rolling the empty vial between his hands thoughtfully. “He _should_ be awake by now.”

Shizuo shot an uneasy look behind him, the flea was still unmoving and unseeing. “What does that mean?”

“It means this _moron_ ,” -Shinra kicked carelessly at the man’s wounded foot making him flinch, “gave him an overdose.”

“Ha,” that annoying, high pitched laugh came out pained and wheezing. The man obviously thought he had nothing left to lose, or was just incapable of shutting the fuck up. “What a fucking waste, ay? I didn’t even get to come inside-,”

-Shizuo delivered a swift punch to the man’s temple, knocking him out flat. “Shut up!”

“Shizuo come here.” Shinra was back at Izaya’s side, digging into his medical bag. “I need your help.”

Shinra’s word were the only thing that stopped Shizuo from beating the man further. He returned to Izaya’s side, no visible change to see. Still _lifeless_.

“Let’s move him to the table … I need room to do this.” Shizuo had no idea what ‘this’ was, but he quickly followed Shinra’s instructions and picked up the flea.

_Can he feel this?_

Izaya weighs nothing in his arms.

Shizuo couldn’t dwell on the thought, following Shinra to the dining table with his greatest enemy cradled against his chest. If Izaya was aware, no doubt he would be _mortified_.

“I have no idea how he got it,” Shinra said as he kicked away a few dining chairs and pushed the pile of placemats and one lonely pot-plant to the opposite side and onto the floor. “But apart from medical use, Vecuronium is also used on prisoners in the United States as a means of carrying out the death penalty.”

“What!?” Shizuo yelled aghast. The fucking death penalty? The flea was going to **_die!_**? “What the fuck Shinra!?”

“I know,” he dumped his bag down, and started pulling out several items that Shizuo could not even begin to identify. “An overdose of the drug is administrated to paralyse the prisoner and stop their breathing. They also administer a sedative and potassium chloride to stop their heart, so I guess we can be thankful it’s just the Vecuronium, ne?”

“How can you be so fucking calm right now?”

Shinra didn’t answer, instead instructing, “Put him here, with his head just at the edge.”

More gently than he had ever treated the flea, Shizuo placed him down. He backed off immediately, Shinra switching places with him at the flea’s side.

“Izaya,” Shinra’s voice was clipped and professional as he pulled on white latex gloves, “I can’t reverse the effects of the drug so I’m going to put you on ventilation until the Vecuronium leaves your system.”

Izaya’s dead eyed stare was his only answer. Shinra gave a wry grin, “Shizuo and I am here, we won’t let anything happen to you.”

Shizuo doesn’t know why Shinra thought Izaya would take comfort in _his_ presence, but he couldn’t be bothered to contradict it. Part of him still refused to believe that Izaya was actually awake and listening.

Shizuo watched as Shinra tightened a strange colourful belt thing around Izaya’s arm, before moving two fingers to press into his inner elbow. “I’m going to give you a pain reliever which should also make you drowsy … so don’t panic if you feel yourself going to sleep.”

“Shinra…”

It’s like Shinra thinks Izaya can hear him.

Shizuo’s heart _breaks_.

Satisfied with whatever it is the doctor feels, Shinra wipes at the flea’s skin with an alcohol wipe, before adding like an afterthought to Shizuo “what I really need is Sugammadex but it’s not something I carry with me, but not knowing exactly how much he was dosed with, it might not be enough anyway.” Shizuo felt as if the walls were crumbling around him, felt like his own breath was beginning to slow. “Shizuo.”

He snapped back to reality, eyes wild as he looked at Shinra. “Breathe Shizuo, one thing at a time, alright?”

Fuck. Of course. He had to get it together, he couldn’t have a breakdown right now. Later, maybe, but now he needed to get his fucking head in the game.

It was easier said than done. Easy to _think_ it … but actually doing it was a struggle on a whole other level. Shizuo hadn’t ever been in such a high stakes situation before.

Izaya could die. Right in front of him. _What in the fucking **hell**._

“I-I thought you said a sedative could make it worse.” Shizuo struggled to get the words out.

“The main issue is he is struggling to breathe on his own, the ventilator will do that for him.” Shinra explains as he pulls out a new glass vial and a syringe.

He sticks the needle into the rubber top of the little bottle, liquid clear as water sucking into the syringe as Shinra pulls back the plunger. “This is a pain reliever and a sedative which can be used with neuromuscular-blockers … Vecuronium doesn’t block pain after all.”

Shizuo didn’t want to unpack all _that_ just yet, because if what Shinra was saying meant what he thought it meant…

_Don’t even think it._

Shinra quickly injects the contents of the needle into Izaya’s arm, and then he is moving to the other objects he pulled out of his bag.

There is a strange metal contraption with three parts. Two long arms that were held parallel to each other by what looked like a handle, both ending with a scooped edge. It almost looked like some sort of kitchen implement; like tongs with an extra arm. Then there’s a long white tube, each end capped with a plastic valve. Last is a small blue rubber cylindrical thing, that almost looked like a squashed football to Shizuo.

Shinra moved behind Izaya’s head, hands tilting the flea’s chin so it pointed slightly upwards. He picked up that silver tong thing in one hand, the other holding onto Izaya’s chin as it forced his mouth to open. Shizuo watched, half terrified, half fascinated, as Shinra slipped the bottom curved edge of the tool between Izaya’s parted lips.

Shizuo almost turned away as the long metal prongs disappeared into Izaya’s mouth, no doubt reaching all the way down to the back of his throat. Shinra removed his hand from Izaya’s chin, picking up his small torch and shining it into the flea’s mouth. He positioned the metal contraption this way and that way, like trying to find the perfect spot, before finally pushing it even further in.

Putting down the torch, Shinra’s pulled the handle and the two prongs seemed to spread slightly, and Shizuo couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of perverted torture method.

“Oi…”

“This is what the sedative is for … it won’t hurt him,” Shinra replied as if he could read Shizuo thoughts, though he never took his eyes off the procedure in front of him.

Shinra grabbed for the white tubing, “I’m going to need your help with the next part.”

Shizuo stood up a little straighter, ready to jump in at a moments notice.

He could do this.

Shinra had threaded the white tubing in-between the two prongs. In a swift manoeuvrer, he pulled the metal contraction out of Izaya’s throat while keeping the tubing in at the same time. He did it so smoothly Shizuo almost didn’t believe his eyes.

“Your first time?” He joked. Humour was supposed to be a coping mechanism or something, right?

Shinra gave a breathless laugh, “it’s a standard procedure taught in medical school.”

Shizuo half rolled his eyes, “like _you’ve_ been to medical school.”

The both laughed, Shizuo’s coming out much more shaky than Shinra’s. He felt as if some of the tension had broken, like he could breathe just a little easier.

_Thank fuck._

“Alright come here,” Shinra said as he connected the end of the tube sticking out of Izaya’s mouth with squishy football-looking thing from earlier.

Shizuo walked over hesitantly, feeling out of his depth as Shinra held the football in one hand, “You need to hold it like this and pump.” Shizuo watched Shinra give a steady squeeze. “Nice and regular, here you try.”

Shizuo was not ready as Shinra placed the blue pump in his hands. He almost fumbled the dam thing, quickly trying to make up for it by giving one panicked squeeze.

_Inhale._

“Careful!” Shinra snapped, not helping at all. “Don’t break it.”

_Hold._

“Fuck you, I’m _trying_ ,” Shizuo growled through gritted teeth. He gave another squeeze, this time more even and gentle.

_Exhale._

“Good, that’s good,” Shinra encouraged, “just like that, slow and steady.”

Shizuo frowned, feeling only slightly patronized. Shinra grabbed the stethoscope from his neck and went back to listening to Izaya’s breathing.

“Did it work?” _Is he okay?_

“Hmm,” Shinra hummed, not outright ignoring Shizuo but it was enough to piss him off. Slightly. The doctor did seem a little preoccupied. “I certainly hope so.”

Well that went without saying, right? Fucking shitty doctor. Shinra pulled back, tugging the stethoscope out of his ears and placing it back around his neck with a sigh. He pulled off his glasses, rubbing between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“This is the most we can do for now.” That sounded like fucking bullshit, surely they should be doing _more_. “I have my own ventilation machine at home, I’ll ask Celty to bring it. I don’t want to move him any more than necessary.”

Shizuo could imagine trying to move the flea and him all the way to Ikebukuro would be a little logistically complicated at the moment. So he were stuck here until Celty could bring relief, Shizuo helping his enemy fucking breathe of all things.

Shinra slumped down in one of the still upright dining chairs. He looked exhausted. “What a day.”

_You’re telling me._

Shinra looked up at him with a mischievous grin, hand still steadily supplying oxygen to the flea. “This sure is a sight though, I should take a picture so I can prove to Izaya that you actually helped save his life.”

Shizuo almost squashed the ventilator, air shooting out his nostrils in a violent huff.

“ _Hah hah_ ,” he responded sarcastically. “You’re lucking I’m too busy _saving_ his life to punch you.”

Shinra giggled, laying his arms down on the table next to Izaya. “You’re a funny man, Shizuo-kun.”

That annoying honorific was back, no doubt Shinra’s version of taking the kid gloves off. Did this mean Shizuo had finally gained some control of his panic … he certainly felt a bit calmer. Though a small, weak part of him just wanted to sit down and cry. 

Shizuo watched as the doctor put his head in his arms, groaning once to himself before standing back up. “Now, for more unpleasant things.”

Like everything before had been a fucking enjoyable walk in the park.

Shizuo frowned, Shinra grabbed another vial and syringe from his bag. “What are you doing?” He called as the doctor made his way over the crumpled form of the man who had caused all this.

“Sedating him, unless you’d like him to wake up and starting _talking_ again.”

No, Shizuo very much did not want that.

“What do we do with him?”

“I’m up for some dismemberment if you are,” Shinra only half sounded like he was joking. “I can think of a few body parts to start with.”

“I don’t want to watch you cut someone’s dick off.” No matter how much the filth deserved it.

“Ah, you’re right,” Shinra sighed dramatically. “I guess it’s only right to leave him to Izaya’s capable hands, ne? Some might call that a fate worse than death.”

Shizuo wasn’t sure how he felt about that idea. It was true that anything they could do would probably pale in comparison when compared to Izaya’s unique brand of vengeance. Shizuo was guessing there would be no shortage of psychological warfare before Izaya either forced the man take his own life or had him killed.

Shizuo didn’t want _any_ of them to have anything to do with the filth now drooling onto the flea’s floor. Certainly not Izaya. He shouldn’t have to see that piece of shit ever again.

But that’s not how Izaya would see it, would he? No doubt he would want to deal with it himself like Shinra said. The thought had him more anxious than Shizuo was willing to admit.

Unbidden, Shinra’s earlier words came back to him.

_“It’s going to be okay, Izaya.”_

“Was he awake?”

His voice came out quiet, almost a whisper as he looked down at the now closed eyes of the flea … Shinra must’ve shut them at some point.

Shinra had spoken to him like he wasn’t stuck in some kind of stasis. Like he was awake and aware, could hear and feel, but was just _still_.

Shinra had come back, the blanket from earlier in hand as he chose not to answer at first. Shizuo watched as the doctor placed the blanket over Izaya, that same soft look in his face that Shizuo had heard in his voice earlier.

“In layman's terms, the drug blocks neuromuscular transmission, so the signals between the brain and muscles you could say.” Shizuo listened with a frown to Shinra’s medical mumbo-jumbo; not entirely sure he _wanted_ to know. “It’s not known to affect any other neurons, and patients who have experience with the drug have reported still being able to feel pain and hear their surroundings. Which is why it’s almost always used in conjunction with a sedative and a pain reliever.”

Shinra paused, tucking the edges of the blanket under Izaya’s feet. The next time he spoke, his voice was so soft it almost trembled, “He most likely was aware.”

Shizuo felt numb.

What could that feel like? To be paralysed head to toe? While some bastard fucking forced-,

**Snap!**

“Ah, Shizuo-kun!” Shinra gave a yelp as the hand that had been gripping the edge of the table by Izaya’s head broke off a large chunk. “Izaya is going to be mad if you break his stuff.”

Izaya might have other fucking things on his damn mind than a stupid broken table.

“What the actual fuck Shinra!?” Shizuo’s tumultuous rage poured into his words. He couldn’t lose control off his body, not when he was busy keeping the fucking flea alive. “What the fuck happened today?”

Shinra only sighed in response, sounding as tired as Shizuo felt.

“We should kill that rapist piece of shit, or at least call the police or something.”

“We could, and then we could keep Izaya sedated indefinitely so he never finds out. Unless _you_ want to deal with his wrath?”

Surely a normal person would want the person who _drugged and assaulted_ them arrested and charged? For fuck sakes the man had almost killed him. Then again, the flea was far from normal.

“He’ll want to deal with this himself,” Shinra repeated once again.

“And what if he goes off the fucking deep-end trying to get revenge?” Shizuo argues. What if the flea got hurt again in some twisted quest for payback. What if killed someone. What if he got _killed_.

“It’s not up to us Shizuo.”

“Tch.”

“You almost sound like you care about what happens to him.” Shizuo snaps his gaze to meet Shinra’s with fury … who only looks _mildly_ entertained. Bastard.

“Shut up Shinra.” Shizuo almost wanted to growl at how hard it was to stop his body from leaping over the table and punching the shitty doctor. He had to stay by Izaya’s side, had to keep breathing for him.

He wants to go home. Wants to sleep and forget this day had ever happened. Shizuo closed his eyes and tried to count to ten, tried to ignore the way Shinra’s words burrowed into his mind and took hold. 

“Would it be such a bad thing if you did?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my project for Whumptober 2020. There will be six chapters (all written except for six) and I should update once a week (barring any disasters). This is not beta'd so feel free to let know if there's any errors. I'm only human and can't catch them all ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I'm also not a doctor or medical professional by any means, so please forgive any incorrect medical terminology. I did a lot of research so hopefully it's no completely illogical. Though I probably did exaggerate things just for the drama. Vecuronium is actually used as a way of administering the death penalty, and a serial killer in Japan used it in their murders ... which is a terrifying little fun fact for ya'll O_O
> 
> I'd like to say 'first comes the hurt then the comfort', but it's gonna hurt for a few chapters more before we finally get any relief. So hang in there and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Bones
> 
> P.S. I listened to a lot of Juice WLRD when writing this so I definitely recommend checking out his album Legends Never Die if you're a fan of emo rap. I also love Stand Atlantic's cover of his song Righteous which really inspired this fic. If you like emo/punk pop check it out [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kL9kvx2VeHo)
> 
> Update: link is now fixed *^_^*


	2. Over Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuo deals with debilitating side-effects and has a violent altercation with Izaya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a few days late, real life got in the way. Tags have been updated.

_Taking medicine to fix all of the damage_   
_My anxiety the size of a planet_   
_Holes in my skill, over time_   
_My Heart’s over ice_

-'Righteous' by Juice WRLD

* * *

Shizuo couldn’t sleep.

A month had passed since that horrible day at Izaya’s. One long month of restless days and sleepless nights. Of shaking anxiety and fraying nerves. Shizuo’s rage so out of control he almost didn’t recognise the person in the mirror anymore.

Shizuo had stayed until Celty had arrived, his own breath almost in time with the steady squeezing of the ventilator in his hand. The thing keeping Izaya alive.

Him. Shizuo.

He was keeping the flea alive. Breathing for him.

It was so fucked up.

Shinra of course had been much more instrumental than Shizuo, who really was just doing what he was told with numb kind of acceptance.

The doctor had texted Celty, requesting various medical equipment and even his portable bed he used for patients. For anyone else it would’ve been a difficult task by themselves but Celty was the best courier in the city, not to mention a supernatural being. Those shadows really did come in handy.

Shinra had also made a shady as fuck call asking for ‘clean-up’. Shizuo didn’t even want to know what that mean… though he could take a guess. Instead he had felt himself zone out, almost to the point he felt completely disconnected from reality. It was only when Celty had folded her hands over his own that Shizuo even realised that she had arrived.

Which was strange, because Shizuo was sure that only minutes had passed but it would’ve taken at least an hour for Celty to make gather everything and make her way to Ikebukuro. He had lost all concept of time it seemed. Not to mention he hadn’t even noticed Shinra’s noisy blubbering when his ‘love’ had arrived.

Shinra had quickly directed Celty to set up the bed and ventilator in one of Izaya’s spare rooms downstairs. The stairs and the giant king bed in the flea’s room making his own bedroom impossible, unless they felt like sawing his mattress in half. Shizuo wasn’t opposed, how the fuck had he even got that monstrous thing through the door? Materialistic bastard.

Celty had created a black stretcher for the flea, and they moved him slowly, Shizuo walking along automatically as he continued to squeeze the pump that was delivering air to the flea’s lungs. Once in the bed, Shinra had allowed Shizuo to finally step away, free to go, and no reason to keep hanging around.

In the lobby of Izaya’s apartment, Shizuo had passed men dressed in black suits and he got the feeling they were Shinra’s ‘clean-up’ crew. Were they Yakuza? Shizuo _really_ didn’t want to know. It wasn’t his business anymore. He was pissed off he had even gotten involved in the flea’s mess in the first place.

But what else should he have done? Just leave?

Shizuo knew he was a hypocrite, knew he had spouted threats about killing the flea a million times. But he couldn’t just stand by as something like _that_ happened, even to his greatest enemy.

If he hadn’t come to Shinjuku, if he hadn’t kicked down the flea’s door, Izaya would mostly likely be dead. And Shizuo had quickly discovered that he was incapable of letting that happen. Which really opened a whole can of worms that he would really rather not deal with.

Like ever.

Shizuo had all but collapsed into his bed when he had gotten home. He had been so ready to be done with that shitty day forever. Done with the fear and the anger and the adrenalin crash that had sunk weary down into his bones.

That hadn’t happened.

He’d spent the night sleepless, tossing and turning as his mind refused to shut off.

Every time he had closed his eyes he was staring into dead ones, Izaya’s head jerking with each disgusting rut. The wet patch on his jeans bloomed like a dark scar against Shizuo’s heart. Burned into the back of his lids, like he’d been staring at a light too long and then closed his eyes, the white afterimage blinding.

Shizuo had spent the next day feeling tired and crabby, even more easily irritated than usual. Something the deadbeats at work did not appreciate too much.

He had thought it would end there. One bad day and sleepless night and then he would be able to push the flea from his mind and forget.

It would’ve been easier to do if goddamn Shinra hadn’t kept _texting_ him.

The doctor updated him of Izaya’s progress every day, and despite being counterproductive to Shizuo goal of just forgetting, he couldn’t help feel relieved.

Desperate to hear any word of the flea … Shizuo thought it was a joke on a near cosmic level.

It was 72 hours and one toxicology screen before Shinra would even think about taking Izaya off assisted breathing, or so he had told Shizuo. Almost a week later and the flea was awake and according to Shinra ‘ _his usual, insufferable-self_ ’. Apparently Izaya did not make a good patient … who would’ve fucken guessed.

Shizuo did not reply to the texts other than an arbitrary thumbs up or ‘k’, nothing that would indicate he was grateful to Shinra for keeping him in the loop.

Izaya was healed and it was over. Everything should be back to normal.

It wasn’t.

It had gotten worse.

As the weeks passed by Shizuo’s mood turned wretched, and the rare sleep he did manage to get was plagued with nightmares. If it wasn’t bad enough every time his eyes closed and saw that dead eyed stare and jerking head, now his goddamn subconscious was torturing him with the memories from that day.

It was mostly disconnected nonsense, snapshots of violence and of Izaya. Worse were the feelings of panic and helplessness that came with the nightmares, to the point Shizuo was waking up drenched in sweat and frozen tears, unable to stop shaking. It was impossible to get back to sleep after particularly vivid ones, Shizuo fingers trembling as he tried to light up a cigarette in bed.

Shizuo had thought maybe if he could just see Izaya, see his slimly self-satisfied little smirk and the way his eyes would light up with mischief and deceit that maybe some part of his fucked up mind would be appeased.

But to do that he would have to either ask Shinra for a photo- which no gross, or call the flea himself.

No. No way would Shizuo do that.

_Grossgrossgrossgross._

As if dreaming about the flea wasn’t bad enough, Shizuo wasn’t about to make it _worse_.

Though, there was always the option of just going to Shinjuku to see him. Which considering how well it had worked out last time … yeah that was a hard pass from Shizuo.

Seriously, leave it to the flea to finally stop popping up around Ikebukuro the _one-time_ Shizuo wants him to. 

Still, Shizuo was starting to feel the effects of his insomnia really grind him down. He was smoking more, almost a pack a day, and he was also beginning to lose weight. It wasn’t his fault, he just didn’t feel like eating. Nothing seemed appetising anymore, no matter how many bakeries Tom and Vorona took him to, or sweets Celty would bring him.

His friends had definitely noticed his worsening frame of mind too. No doubt the even more violent and unpredictable mood swings combined with his rough appearance spoke volumes. His roots were starting to show, the contrast against the bleach almost seemed as dark as the black bags that had taken up permanent residence under his eyes.

Tom and Vorona had both tried to talk to him, but if there was anything Shizuo wanted least it was _talking_ about it. He wouldn’t even know where to begin, not sure what his damn problem was in the first place. Celty was a little harder to fool, seeing how she knew some of what had gone down, so he’d had taken to avoiding her as much as possible.

Shizuo skin was starting to feel _itchy._

He thought maybe if he just scratched deep enough, he could reach into his very soul and tear out the memories. Tear out the fear. After one particularly terrifying nightmare, Shizuo had wondered if maybe he took a drill to his head he could bore it all out.

They were random passing thoughts of self-harm, and Shizuo immediately regretted even thinking such a thing … but shame and self-loathing only went so far. It didn’t _stop_ them.

Shizuo found himself more aware of certain things, especially at work. The debtors they tracked down, sometimes they would throw a look at Vorona that reminded him of that day, of _that_ man.

Vile and sickening and enraging.

Others would say seemingly innocent comments, but for some reason they made Shizuo skin _crawl_. He felt hypervigilant. Afraid at every door he would kick down and what he might found on the other side.

Just walking on the street was becoming nerve racking, every accidental brush up against his person making him want to rip his skin off.

His temper had gotten a hundred times worse. Fear, anxiety, and lack of sleep like lighter fluid for his rage. He felt so much more out of control, so much more violent. It was a miracle he hadn’t killed anyone. Hell, maybe he had.

Shizuo might be a murderer.

Shinra had not mentioned the attacker again, which while incredibly grateful for, kept niggling at the back of Shizuo’s mind. Shinra had sedated him, so he obviously was still alive at that point, but for how long? Shizuo had crushed his nose into his fucking skull, not to mention the hit he had delivered to the man’s temple. Was he dead? Did it matter?

It shouldn’t, the man fucking deserved it … but that would mean that Shizuo had killed someone.

Just something else fun to think about at night when he couldn’t sleep.

Now if only Shizuo could get Izaya’s stupid lifeless eyes out of his goddamn head.

He gave up on sleeping.

It was 2am and Shizuo found himself wandering aimlessly around Ikebukuro. He had smoked several cigarettes already, the box of American Spirits Blue feeling dangerously light. He would have to get more. Maybe he should get some food at the convenience store as well … as unappealing as that sounded. He should probably eat something today, or tomorrow, what time was it again?

Shizuo was just thinking of heading to the nearest family mart when he caught a glimpse of tan fur slipping around the corner.

His heart leapt, his mind conjuring up that stupid image of the flea’s head flopping limply _again and again_.

_Fuck, not now._

Like a bloodhound, Shizuo shot after his prey, running to the same corner he had seen him disappear behind.

Shizuo found himself in a side street, flashing lights and the thumping of club music in the air. The entrance to a club was roped off, a few patrons lining up along the side of the building.

He spotted the flea last in line. He was facing away from Shizuo, only the back of his head visible as his face was turned down to look at his phone, fingers flying as he texted. Shizuo felt the usual rage at the sight of his most hated enemy, quickly searching for an available vending machine, but there was an underlying anxiety that over-rode his usual instincts. 

_I just need to see for myself, and then everything will be fine._

Shizuo was about to take a step forward when another man stepped out of the club.

“Oi Nakura,” a plain looking man called out to Izaya, who quickly looked up from his phone. Shizuo wanted to break something, _that_ man’s face appearing over the new arrival.

It wasn’t him, his hair was slightly lighter and his eyes were a murky green; but still Shizuo wanted to _killkillkill-_

“Good Evening, Junichi-san,” Izaya’s voice was light and cordial, and fucking fake as shit. Shizuo wanted to punch him back to Shinjuku, but he found himself more curious than angry right now.

_Just what are you up to flea?_

Shizuo watched as the man said something unintelligible to the bouncer, and then Izaya was skipping the line with a twirl of that ugly as shit coat and disappearing into the club.

_Well fuck._

Shizuo barrelled forward, stomping straight past the rope and to the front door.

“Hey, get in line buddy-,” the bouncer’s voice cut off at the murderous look on Shizuo’s face. No doubt recognising the infamous beast of Ikebukuro and his bartender outfit.

Shizuo gave an agitated huff, shouldering his way through the door.

Where the fuck did that little cretin go?

The music was pounding, some autotuned-repetitive shit that made Shizuo’s head hurt; not helped by the flickering of strobe lights. Goddammit Shizuo _hated_ places like this.

Izaya and that creep were nowhere to be seen. Shizuo’s height allowed him a good view over the crowd gyrating on the dance floor. He couldn’t catch sight of that tacky fur coat among the horde, but it was slightly difficult when all the bodies seem to merge together they were packed in that tightly. Shizuo quickly scanned the bar, no sign there either.

_Slippery fucken flea._

Shizuo was about to give up and call it a night when he caught the sound of laughter. It was faint over the music, but there was no mistaking the flea’s self-satisfied little chuckle. Shizuo had heard the stupid thing enough time in his life, too many times to count.

It was coming from behind him and off to the side, the entrance to the bathrooms. With the same single-mindedness he always chased the flea with, Shizuo followed the sound.

He stopped at the door of the men’s bathroom, and was just about to lift his leg and kick it in when memories came flooding back to him.

Him kicking down a door.

The flea’s lifeless eyes staring out at him.

His head jerking.

Shizuo wanted to scream, wanted to put his hands to his head and dig his nails in.

_Rip it out, just get rid of it._

Instead he stood frozen, just like he had that day, the murmurings on conversation coming from the other side of the door.

_He’s in there. Just go in and a punch him. Then you can go home and sleep._

Shizuo just wanted to look into the flea’s eyes and see life in them. He didn’t need anything else. So why wouldn’t his body _move_?

_He isn’t moving Shinra, **why isn’t he moving?**_

_Just breathe._

“What the hell!?”

Shizuo was ripped from the flashback violently, the sounds of a struggle exploding into his mind like a firecracker. Without a further thought he barged through the bathroom door.

“Shizu-chan?”

Izaya sounded honestly surprised to see the blonde standing in the threshold like rampaging beast. He was leaning against the closed stalls, foot crossed over his ankle as he held his phone in his hand, casual as ever. It was a far cry from the man who _crawling_ across the tiled floor.

“I thought I locked that door,” Izaya muttered, the space between his eyes creasing only slightly at Shizuo’s interruption.

_You’re alive, you’re alive! Thank fuck I could kiss you shitty flea._

“What the fuck flea!?” Shizuo bellowed automatically.

Izaya’s expressed morphed into wry amusement, oaky eyes alight with mischief.

Shizuo knew he was the world’s biggest hypocrite right now but he didn’t care. Seeing Izaya’s eyes light up was like the feeling of whiskey warming his chest on a cold winter’s night.

“You l-lying _snake_.”

Izaya sighed and rolled his eyes at the man on the ground. He reached an arm out, trying grab onto Izaya’s shoe and received a kick for his troubles.

“Nothing personal Junichi-san, it’s just business.”

Shizuo’s mind was still trying to catch up with what the fuck was happening. Why did every time he burst into a room with the flea some kind of messed up shit was going on? At least this time was better than the last.

“F-fuck you.”

The man’s movements and speech were slowing, like his muscles were deliberately shutting down. Just what in the-

_-I can only theorise, but I think he’s been drugged._

“Shizu-chan, please close the door.”

Shizuo growled, kicking the door shut with his foot and facing Izaya down with fury etched into every part of his being. Sure he was ecstatic the flea was actually alive and in front of him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t beat the shit out of him. Didn’t erase almost a decade of rage and hate and _instinct_.

“I meant from the other side,” Izaya added.

“Fuck you!”

Shizuo wanted to punch the smug smile off his ugly face.

“Eloquent as ever beast, but I’m too busy to play with you right now,” Izaya merely sounded slightly inconvenienced. Well boo-fucking-hoo, Izaya’s very existence inconvenienced Shizuo’s life 24-fucking-7 these days.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m working.”

“And that involves _drugging_ people?” Izaya was an informant, surely attacking people in random club bathrooms wasn’t part of the job description, or maybe it was … Shizuo really had no idea what being an informant really entailed. Being a piece of shit apparently. 

Izaya shrugged, like he couldn’t care either way. “You should know better than to deal in Awakusu-kai territory … medical grade narcotics catch a fair price, ne, Junichi-san?”

Junichi-san seemed unable to answer, body lying with his face pressed down onto the dirty bathroom floor. He couldn’t move let alone talk.

“Alas, no matter how good a side hustle, actions have consequences … seems the Yakuza aren’t too happy with you, Junichi-san,” Izaya spoke to him like he was speaking to a particularly misbehaving child.

_You’re such a condescending dick._

The flea’s phone dinged, and his face lit up. “Look,” he showed the screen down at Junichi, not that he could even move his neck to look up, “Shiki-san is going to come meet you personally, isn’t that nice?”

This was fucked up. Shizuo didn’t know if Junichi had anything to do with what happened to Izaya or not, but he had a feeling it did. The way Junichi now lay motionless was far too telling.

_Is this some twisted form of revenge, flea? Why are you going after this guy and not the guy who assaulted you?_

_Is it because you no longer can?_

Shizuo’s skin _itched_ at the implications of that thought.

Feeling thoroughly pissed off and anxious, Shizuo grabbed Izaya by the front of his coat and dragged him from the bathroom.

“Shizu-chan I can’t just _leave_.”

Izaya didn’t pull out any of his knives though so Shizuo continued on his way out of that infernal club. The Yakuza were on their way, so Izaya said, they could deal with the guy on the bathroom floor.

Shizuo dragged Izaya and his sardonic little smirk outside and a few streets away from the club before he shoved the flea up against a random alley wall.

“What the **fuck** are you doing!?”

Izaya grunted as his back hit the bricks, eyes opening with what seemed like _amusement_ at the rough handling. Just what the hell went on in that messed up mind of his?

“I thought we’d been over this Shizu-chan, don’t make me repeat myself.”

Fuck the flea, and his flea bullshit.

“Why the fuck are you still doing dangerous shit like this?” The words were a surprise to both Izaya and himself. He was beyond pissed, but at the same time he just didn’t understand _why_.

_Why are you so goddamn **reckless**?_

“Why wouldn’t I?” Izaya responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is my job Shizu-chan, we can’t all be paid to beat up thugs for a living.”

“No, you just drug them.”

“Heh, touché.”

“You’re such a prick, do you even _care_!?” Shizuo shouted it, slamming a hand next to Izaya’s head hard enough to cause a crack in the brickwork. Izaya merely raised his eyebrows in what Shizuo could only describe as condescending disbelief. Like Shizuo was particularly ugly, misbehaving dog. “You almost _died!_ ”

Silence met Shizuo’s deafening explosion, and then…

“Pfft…”

Izaya was laughing.

The flea threw his head back, laughing like what Shizuo had said was the funniest thing he’d ever fucking heard.

Shizuo felt his eye twitch, he should trample the little insect to dust.

“Hah, oh this is t-too good,” Izaya held his sides, not seeming to care about the fingers next to his head digging into concrete like it was pudding, or the arm across his chest that could easily crush him. Shizuo would like to see the flea try and breathe once he did that.

He feels a small puff air against his cheek, so small and short and _weak._

“This is about _that_?” Izaya finally lands a lazy and hooded gaze back onto Shizuo, not seeming to notice the inner turmoil he is in. “What? Were you _scared_ , Shizu-chan?”

Oh he noticed it alright, saw it and aimed straight for it. Izaya’s mocking laughter rings in his ears and Shizuo feels like his back in that apartment struggling to breathe all over again.

“Don’t worry Shizu-chan,” Shizuo flinches, Izaya reaching out and stroking his cheek with two fingers as his voice turns to an almost loving whisper. “You’re the only one I’d let kill me.”

Shizuo can see it in his head. His body crushing the flea’s underneath his, grunting, rutting. Can smell the flea’s scent at his neck, so much stronger than normal. Can feel his skin against his lips, can almost taste him on his tongue.

Shizuo can feel his chest giving way under his arms, can feel as his breathing stops.

And Izaya’s eyes are lifeless. And his head is still jerking in time with Shizuo’s movements.

Shizuo recoils from Izaya violently. He’s reaching out blindly, black spots in his vision. His hands hit the wall, fingers clenching into rough brick strong enough to crumble as he bends over and vomits.

“Ew.”

Shizuo can’t breathe through the retching, can’t stop the tears that spring to his eyes. His throat burns, nothing in his stomach to expel besides acid. It tries to escape through his nose, snot mixed with sick stinging his sinuses as he chokes.

_Can’t breath._

“Shizu-chan … Shizu-chan.”

Izaya is calling to him, but his voice sounds so far off.

Shizuo’s body heaves and shakes, descending into little tremors as he tries to get himself under control. Tries to just breathe.

“Fuck!” It’s the first thing that he can say, and it’s forced out of him by a harsh kick to the ribs.

He drops to his knees, trying to curl in but Izaya’s is kicking him again, pushing him over onto his back. “Kicking you is like kicking a brick wall, Shizu-chan.” Izaya complains childishly, but it doesn’t match the wild vicious look in his eyes. He slams his foot down on Shizuo’s chest and pushed down with all his might.

“You want to know the worst thing about that day?” Izaya spat down, his voice tight with abhorrence and disgust.

Shizuo can only look up at his murderous expression, can only think ‘thank fuck’ at the way Izaya’s eyes _shine_.

_I’ll take you like this any day flea._

“What?” Shizuo grunted, hand coming to wrap around the flea’s ankle as if to snap it like a twig. Though the threat is weak in his mind. The worst thing about that day? Shizuo knew what it was for him, several things actually, it really just depended what his mind decided to conjure up and torture him with.

At least Izaya was finally talking about it. Shizuo didn’t know how much more of the bullshit he could take.

Shizuo should also know to not count his chickens before they had hatched. Should know that the flea was a conniving, manipulative, malicious little bastard who couldn’t speak the truth even if it broke into his house and tried to kill him.

“The worse thing,” Izaya’s features were ugly and twisted, revulsion carved into every crevice, “ **was watching a monster cry over me**.”

Shizuo felt like Izaya had kicked the very breath from his lungs.

“It was disgusting to see. All that kept me going was the thought of running you through with my knife, _over_ and _over_ again.” The floodgates had opened, Izaya had started talking he couldn’t stop.

“Tch!” Izaya spat at him - _actually_ spat at him- a glob of saliva landing on the ground somewhere next to his face. Shizuo felt maybe he should be losing it at that, should be going on a hatred fuelled rampage, or at least try and beat the shit out of the one above him … but all he could feel was shock at the _absolute rage_ on the flea’s face.

Shizuo didn’t think he had ever seen Izaya truly angry before, eyes a stormy sea of hatred.

“I should kill you right here, but you’re so fucking pathetic even I would feel bad about it.”

Shizuo could only focus the way Izaya voice trembled, the way it _hurt_.

_Flea_.

“What did you want me to do?” Shizuo’s mouth moved without much thought, and he hates the way his voice croaks out of him. “Just leave you to die?”

“Yes!” Izaya yelled, as if it was the most simple thing in the world and Shizuo just didn’t _get it_. “Or at least try and finish the job, you incompetent beast.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to watch someone _fucking die_ , even an asshole like you.”

“Stop it!” Izaya all but screamed it at him. “Stop fucking crying!”

Shizuo wasn’t even aware he was, though it made sense with the way his body was shaking and the way that day kept fucking flashing in his head. What he was aware of was the knife Izaya had pulled out and shoved up under his eye.

“ **If you don’t fucking stop crying I’m going to cut out your eyes beast**.”

Izaya looked almost deranged and Shizuo could only bark out a laugh.

_Maybe if you cut them out I won’t have to fucking see anymore._

“Tch,” Izaya pulled away from him, sounding thoroughly disgusted. “You’re not even worth my time like this.”

“F-fuck you too, Izaya.” Shizuo spat his name out between gritted teeth, pissed as fuck and feeling completely done with this bullshit.

“Next time,” Izaya snapped, walking away from Shizuo, hopefully he would walk out of Shizuo’s life for good, “come at me like you want to kill me, _beast_.”

Shizuo felt like lighting up a cigarette right then and there, lying in a dirty alley in what was probably half of his own vomit with the rest soaking into his collar.

He certainly proved Izaya was alive and kicking. Too bad the flea was still batshit fucking insane. Shizuo had had enough of this, he was _sick_ of it. Tired of the fear, the rage, the fucking afterimages that wouldn’t stop haunting him. He just wanted to _sleep_.

He closed his eyes, Izaya’s head jerking in time with aggressive thrusts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know ya'll were really keen for some Izaya suffering, but can I offer you some Shizuo suffering instead?
> 
> But for real, I wanted to kind of turn the traumatic event trope on its head a bit with Shizuo experiencing PTSD (bystanders get PTSD too). Don't worry, Izaya is definitely in the shit too, he's just more on the unimaginable rage side of things, (which I kind of liked as it flips it from Shizuo being the one angry all the time). Mostly this fic is about the different sides of trauma and how it affects people in all different ways. And like always, Izaya is a real fucking asshole, and boy is he just getting warmed up. 
> 
> This was probs my least fav chapter of the whole fic, so I'm really excited for the next ones. Chapter 3 is a lot more lighthearted and I really enjoyed writing it. Hopefully the story is still interesting to ya'll. Thanks so much for your comments they mean the world to me <3
> 
> -Bones


	3. Over Active

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuo tries to take positive steps to move on with his life, which would be a hell of a lot easier if Izaya wasn't in it. Shizuo finds drinking plus Izaya leads to bad decisions and even worse consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is smut in this chapter.

_Inhale, exhale, but I can't breathe  
Too busy drinking codeine doing high speeds  
Crash, pour a four, sip it slow, make the time pass_

-‘Righteous’ Juice WRLD

* * *

If Shinra didn’t have a fully stocked bar, Shizuo doesn’t know if he’d actually be here.

It had been a few days since the nightclub incident, and Shizuo is determined to put everything behind him. He starts by trying to take a little better care of himself. He’s forcing himself to eat, three meals a day, and he’s trying to cut back on the smokes.

Shizuo had also taken up jogging, thinking that maybe if he exhausts his body he’ll be too tired for insomnia and nightmares. There is something nice about the anonymity. In his exercise gear no one seems to notice him, the citizen’s blissfully unaware of the infamous monster of Ikebukuro running around the neighbourhood.

He still feels anxious, still sees Izaya being assaulted when he closes his eyes and hears those thoughts of self-harm … but he tries his best to ignore them. It’s not an easy feat. Though thankfully, there haven’t been any more of the really violent flashbacks like in the alley. Probably something to do with not being around Izaya. Leave it to the flea to be the one to set him off, he was aptly skilled in that department after all.

The running helps, but Shizuo finds his mind would wander too freely even though his body was occupied. So he got some headphones and signed up for Spotify, trying to replace any risky thoughts with music. He doesn’t really know much about music, and he follows Kasuka for guidance. Shizuo finds his tastes are varying and wide, from rap to obscure indie; he isn’t fussed and more importantly, it helps. He’s enjoying it.

This new self-care routine also dictates he reach out to his friends, which is why he found himself unable to refuse an invitation to dinner at Shinra and Celty’s. 

They greeted him at the door cheerfully, Celty in a pink frilly apron over her black catsuit and Shinra already a drink deep if his glass was an indication.

The apartment was warm, with a delicious smell was wafting from the kitchen. Celty quickly left them to get back to preparing her feast, leaving Shizuo to cross the room and jump behind the bar.

“What are we drinking?”

It was just the three of them, which Shizuo was secretly thankful for … he didn’t think he could deal with huge crowds of people right now. Just the thought of anyone accidentally touching him had Shizuo wanting to scratch off his own skin.

Shinra sat down on one of the stools at the counter, answering lively. “Whiskey!”

The same kind the colour of Izaya’s-

_Nope, don’t go there._

“Gross,” Shizuo shot at Shinra, who scrunched up his face in response.

“Then make me a drink, oh wise bartender-sama,” Shinra sniggered into his drink.

“Shut up.”

Shizuo pulled down various bottles from the shelf, lining them up on the benchtop. “My, my, looking to get lit, Shizuo-kun,” Shizuo shot a disparaging look at Shinra and his use of the word ‘lit’. Where did he come up with this shit? “We’ve got vodka, tequila, gin, Cointreau, and even white rum!” Shinra tapped each of the bottles on the lid as he named them.

“Some of these aren’t even opened, this bar is wasted on you shitty doctor,” Shizuo grumbled, looking for lemon juice and sugar syrup.

“What can I say, I’m the only one who can drink … do you expect me to clear out all these bottles by myself?”

“I think you’ll be flat on the floor from just one.”

“You’re soooooo meeeeaaaaaan~!” Shinra wailed dramatically.

“Lightweight.” Shizuo added with a grin. For the first time in a long time he actually felt not terrible. It was nice, seeing his friends, bantering with Shinra and getting drunk. This is what he needed.

“Where’s your ice?”

“Kitchen-, no,” Shinra held up a hand to stop Shizuo who had turned to head just there. “Don’t think I’ll let you go and steal my chance to have a moment alone with Celty!”

“Just get the ice you dumbass.”

Shinra giggled as he ran like an idiot to the kitchen, Shizuo rolling his eyes at the lovestruck fool.

“Lemon too!” Shizuo called out as an afterthought, but he doubted it was heard over Shinra’s squeal of ‘Ceeeellllltttttyyyyy~!’

Thankfully the door swung shut on the doctor’s wails of love.

Shizuo pulled out a silver cocktail shaker out from underneath the bar, setting up all his tools and ingredients in a line with two glasses on standby.

It shouldn’t take more than thirty seconds to get ice, yet Shinra had been gone at least a couple of minutes.

Yeah, Shizuo really didn’t want to know…

The kitchen door swung open, giggles and black smoke pouring out. Shizuo half wanted to roll his eyes and half couldn’t help but think Shinra and Celty were kind of cute.

_I’ve lost my goddamn fucking mind._

Shinra basically fell out of the kitchen door, his cheeks rosy red, ice in one hand and a chopping board with lemon wedges in the other. “I will miss you every moment you are not in my presence my love~!”

Black smoke pushed him out the door, motion belaying Celty’s mortification at Shinra’s frankly embarrassing behaviour.

_You horny fuckers._

Shizuo could only shake his head as Shinra skipped back to him and dumped the ice try on the counter.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Huh?” Shinra said aghast. “My love is beautiful and pure, Shizuo-kun!”

“Like I said … disgusting.”

Shinra chuckled as Shizuo split the ice between the glasses and cocktail shaker and started measuring out shots

“This drink actually has all five of these? Are you trying to kill me?”

Shizuo gave a mischievous grin, “step up your game, shitty doctor … I thought we were getting ‘lit’.”

“Ugh,” Shinra groaned. “Why are you in such a good mood anyway?”

Shizuo shrugged, pouring shots over ice. Maybe it was the self-care, or maybe just good food and good people. Whatever it was he would take it, if only for tonight.

“Hmm,” Shinra had a shrewd look on his face, like he was suspicious. “Celty’s theories on alien imposters might not be far off…”

“Piss off.”

Shizuo finished adding the various liquids into the cocktail shaker, before capping the lid over the top and picking it up.

“It’s a shame you know,” Shinra said as Shizuo started to shake the cylinder over his shoulder, “you’re really good at this, you should try and get another bartending job.”

Shizuo snorted, careful not to lose his cool and send the cocktail shaker into the mirrored shelves behind him. “What? So I can get fired from that too? Anyway, I have a job.”

A perfectly fine one, thank you very much … and if Shizuo didn’t bring up _why_ he got fired from those other jobs, well, whatever.

“But this suits you, you seem…” Shinra trailed off, like he couldn’t quite think of the word to describe Shizuo. “Content?”

Another half shrug, Shizuo placing the shaker back on the bar and hitting the sides of the metal lightly. Very lightly. He’d exploded his fair share of these shakers when he had first been learning to tend bar. The ice caused the container to get cold and expand, making the lid stick; the tapping helped pull it off easier.

“You have a lot of control when like this!” Shinra sounded fascinated as Shizuo grabbed the strainer. He didn’t really think about it to be honest, but he could see where Shinra was coming from. Personally, Shizuo thought Shinra would be equally fascinated if he were to crush the entire bar instead.

Shinra gave an over the top ‘oooh’ when Shizuo flipped the strainer one handed, doing a spinning trick with it between his fingers before placing it over the rim of a glass. Heh, he’d have to show Shinra some more tricks later, maybe when Celty was around to watch.

“Maybe you should be the one to take up the knives! You’re plenty dexterous.”

Shizuo made a face at that, somewhere between revulsion and disgust “don’t be gross Shinra.”

The doctor just sniggered in reply.

Shizuo split his creation into two glasses filled with ice. For final touches he topped the drinks with cola and a lemon wedge each. “Here you go, one long island iced tea.”

Shinra took the drink Shizuo slid across the bar, looking down at the black-brown concoction. “You really are trying to kill me.”

“Hah!” Shizuo laughed, pulling his own drink to his lips and inhaling the scent. “Weak.”

“Not all of us have a superhuman tolerance! Why would you even choose to make this?” Shinra sounded plenty aghast yet he still drank all the same.

“Alcohol tastes like shit…” Shizuo said as if that explained anything.

“So you make this five shots abomination!?”

“Doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“That’s what makes it so dangerous! Jeez Shizuo-kun, you’re such a sadist.”

Shizuo only smirked over the rim of his glass. Taking a sip, he gave a noise of satisfaction at the way the drink flooded his mouth and rushed down his throat.

It was smooth as hell.

“Still got it,” Shizuo said more to himself than Shinra. To which the doctor only groaned in reply.

“Izaya’s right, you _are_ arrogant.”

Shizuo immediately felt his pleasant mood snap.

_Izaya kicking him, **threatening** him. Izaya’s dead eyes. Izaya’s jerking head. A dark stain on denim._

“I’m warning you Shinra … don’t fucking bring him up.”

Shinra sighed, “you guys really need to come to some sort of truce, I’m getting tired of the constant fighting.”

Shinra was tired? Well Shizuo was fucking _exhausted_.

“Fuck off Shinra … never gonna happened.”

Shinra didn’t answer, just took small sips of his drink, looking thoughtful.

“By the way, how are you doing with all that?”

“With all what?” Shizuo snapped, his gut clenched uncomfortably.

Shinra gave him a deadpan look, as if he knew Shizuo was being purposely dense. “I just meant … it was pretty traumatic.”

Shizuo slammed his glass down with more force than necessary. “I'm not-”

_-Not what? Not traumatised?_

“I mean … just-just shut up Shinra.”

Shinra looked at Shizuo calmly, only the slight raising of his brow to show he clearly thought differently. It was the same kind of patronising look Shizuo saw on the flea. The doctor obviously had a death wish or something, because he was silent for only a moment before he opened his big fat mouth again.

“Izaya is acting like he’s not affected, but I think he was really shaken by it all.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What do you mean you _know_?”

Oh shit, fuck, now Shizuo was the one who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“We had a run in, he was…” Shizuo tried to think of a sufficient way to describe the flea’s almost manic behaviour. Though compared to Shizuo’s own, it was probably a lot less pathetic. “He was pissed.”

Pissed was putting it lightly, raging lunatic more like it. Which was ironic as hell considering Shizuo’s own anger issues.

Shizuo himself was still furious at the fact the little bastard had kicked him and then almost gouged out his eyes.

_Fucking psycho._

Shinra made an exasperated sound, “he won’t talk to me at all! He keeps leaving me on read … why, oh why did I choose the two most difficult people in the country to be my friends?”

“Sounds like a blessing in disguise to me … you should take this as an opportunity to ditch him once and for all.”

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra admonished, though he sounded a little entertained. “No! Stop changing the subject! How are you? Are you eating well? Sleeping enough?”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Celty would want me to ask these questions about my friends!”

“Ah, so you’re doing her dirty work.”

Shinra made an ‘oh shit’ face. Of course Celty had sent Shinra to do some digging, seeing how Shizuo had been purposely avoiding her. It was only right she was worried.

Shizuo took a longer sip of his drink, finishing the entire last half in one gulp. Really, he was just buying time.

“You can tell her, yes, I’m eating. Three meals a day and all.”

“And what about your mood? Have you got a good sleep pattern going?”

“You’re about to fucking see my mood, Shi-n-ra!”

Shizuo and Shinra managed to get one more drink in before dinner; yuzu hachimitsu sour, weak. After all, he didn’t want to actually kill Shinra, not really. They moved to the dining table, a veritable feast laid out on the before them. Shizuo tried to ignore the way his mind went to memories of Izaya laid out on his own table.

“Wow Celty, this looks amazing.”

It was like a huge order at an Izakaya, with lots of individual dishes. Shizuo could spot edamame, karaage, yakitori, and takoyaki … just to name a few.

Shinra was hanging off the Dullahan, singing her praises. “My Celty is a MasterChef~!”

“Mm, more like Iron Chef!” Shizuo added, feeling pleasantly buzzed two drinks deep.

Celt’s smoke merely puffed in that flustered way of hers. **[Stop it, both of you!]**

Shinra and Shizuo only laughed, Shinra exclaiming how cute she was when embarrassed.

It was only when they were all taking a seat at the table, about to dig in, that there was a knock on the door.

“Hm, who could that be?” Shinra asked, standing up as Shizuo’s brows furrowed.

Apparently, no one good.

Shinra was only gone for a few minutes before he returned, “look who I found!”

Celty’s black smoke exploded, almost like one giant explanation point. Shizuo on the other snapped the flimsy wooden chopsticks in his hand clean in half.

Standing in the door, in all his shitty glory, was the fucking flea.

“I told you Shinra I’m not staying-,”

“-Nonsense!” Shinra flapped his hands, as if waving Izaya’s protests off. “There’s plenty for all of us, and you could do with a good meal, you’re skin and bones!”

“What are you, my mother?”

Shizuo growled as Shinra let out a high pitched laugh, no doubt remembering Shizuo exact same expression from earlier.

“What’s so funny?” Izaya snapped, looking far from pleased with the situation. His eyes caught Shizuo’s, narrowing in a look nothing short of hatred.

_Next time, come at me like you want to kill me._

Shizuo’s hand gripped the underside of the table. Shadows were immediately tugging at him gently, and Shizuo realised he had stood without thinking.

Shizuo growled, slumping back down into his seat. It had been established long ago that Shinra and Celty’s apartment was a neutral zone, Switzerland if you will. Though it was less a decision on Shizuo’s part and more the fact Shinra and Celty were sick of having their furniture thrown through their walls after missing a certain slippery bastard.

Hell, Shizuo was going to need a hundred more drinks before he even _thought_ of letting the flea have dinner with them.

At least this time he wasn’t threatening to cut out Shizuo’s eyes. Or drugged. 

_He still looks like he’d try and skewer me given the chance._

“No way Shinra … get rid of him.”

“Yes please Shinra, ‘get rid of me’,” Izaya parroted back, raising his fingers to do mocking air quotations. “You know I think I might actually stay now.”

Izaya sat down in the chair opposite Shizuo with an infuriating smirk. “Watching a beast eat in its natural habitat, a video of that is bound to fetch a high price.”

“Izaya,” Shinra warned as Shizuo threw his broken chopsticks across the table at the flea. The bastard merely leaned to the left and avoided them with a gleeful little laugh.

**[Please don’t throw things]**

“Sorry Celty,” and now Shizuo felt guilty.

**[Don’t be sorry, I don’t want him here either!]**

“Why do I get the feeling Courier-san is not writing anything too kind about me, ne?”

Celty pulled her PDA close to her chest, like she was afraid Izaya would try and take the device from her and read it.

“Because no one likes you, shithead.”

“I do.”

“Shut up Shinra.”

“Yeah, shut up Shinra,” Izaya mocked, once again copying Shizuo.

“Can you not be annoying for more than five minutes?”

“That depends, can you not be a beast for more than five minutes?”

“Argh!” Shizuo wanted to flip the table but then all Celty’s hard work would go to waste.

“How fascinating, the language of Neanderthals…”

“Give it a rest, both of you!” Shinra’s words did not match the amusement in his voice or the way he was trying to stifle his laughter. “You’re ruining my Celty’s wonderful dinner!”

**[Ah Shinra- it’s fine]**

“I want a drink-“

“-Oi!” Shizuo yelled as the flea reached out and snatched away his drink. “Get your own, you damn parasite.”

Izaya took a sip and made thoughtful face, “this is good … a little sweet for my taste but the sour really cuts through it. I’m amazed someone without a head is such a capable chef, well done Courier-san.”

**[Oh…]**

Shinra burst out laughing, collapsing to the floor in hysterics.

“What?” Izaya snapped, glaring at Shinra who was struggling to pull himself back up through his laughter. 

“Oi, oi, oi...” Shizuo could feel a vein throbbing in his temple.

Shinra _wheezed_ as his head popped up, tears of laughter visible in his eyes. “Celty didn’t make that.”

Izaya looked down once at the drink in his hand, then once to Shinra, who had collapsed again in a fit of giggles, and then to Shizuo.

Shizuo watched as the flea’s eyes widened in realization and something akin to horror, before narrowing in distaste, “…gross.”

“Fuck you, you just said it was good.”

Shinra was _howling_.

“I lied, it’s called being a good guest … you should try it, Shizu-chan.”

“Bullshit!”

Izaya answered with a smirk, taking another long sip of Shizuo’s drink and then spitting it all back out.

“What the fuck flea!?”

“Want your drink back now?”

**[Are you _children_!?]**

“You couldn’t _pay_ me to drink your dirty flea backwash.”

“You couldn’t _afford_ my backwash.”

**[How is this conversation happening?! Shinra, do something…]**

Shinra was however too busy cackling on the floor, as if this was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed. 

**[Shinra!!!!!!!!]**

*

Dinner had been nothing short of _hairy_. Shizuo barely managed not to leap over the table and throttle the flea. Shinra was wasted, though he finally managed to pull himself back into his chair after much amusement at Shizuo’s and Izaya’s expense. Celty just raised her arms to where her head should be, as if holding it in her hands and crying.

The food was amazing. Though Izaya found ways to sneak in those backhanded little comments every now and again. He would also contradict Shizuo at every turn. If Shizuo would say he really liked a sauce or the karaage, Izaya would say he wasn’t a fan and make some slight criticism of it.

‘It’s too salty’, or ‘I’ve had better’.

Though every time he did Shinra would vehemently defend Celty’s cooking and admonish Izaya’s manners or lack their off.

Now _that_ had been satisfying. Especially the way Izaya’s nose would scrunch up in that annoyed way of his, like he almost felt betrayed by Shinra.

That was until Shinra told Shizuo to stop antagonising Izaya. Like, what the fuck? Shizuo was doing no such thing. It was all the flea! He had said as much anyway.

After dinner, which Shizuo was honestly surprised hadn’t turned into a full on food fight (which had happened many times before), they had moved back into the living room, Celty suggesting drinks and desert.

Though Shizuo had imagined she had tea or coffee in mind and not more alcohol.

“I want a desert cocktail Shizuo-kun~!”

“Mm,” Shizuo agreed as he and Shinra headed to the bar.

**[No! No more alcohol!]**

“Let’s put on some music.”

“Yes! Impromptu dance party!”

**[Shinra you’re drunk!]**

“I don’t think they’re paying attention Courier-san.”

Celty slumped into an armchair, apparently giving up all hope of calling any of them to heel.

Shizuo once again slid behind the bar while Shinra scrolled through his phone. “Any requests?”

“Rock.”

“Pop.”

Shizuo and Izaya spoke at exactly the same time, then proceeded to glare daggers at the other. Shizuo quickly opened his mouth again but it seemed Izaya had a similar idea.

“Rap.”

“Punk.”

Son of a bitch was just doing it on purpose now. 

“I wanna listen to WAP!”

“Shinra _no_.”

“Shinra _yes_.”

Shizuo couldn’t help himself, if Izaya said pop Shizuo said rock, if he said punk than Shizuo said rap, and if Izaya said no then he had to say yes.

Maybe Shinra had a point and they were both as bad as each other?

No way. Shizuo might have his flaws, huge gaping ones, but compared to the flea he was _miles_ ahead.

_He is the worst._

Izaya looked extremely affronted at the music starting playing out of the small portable speaker next to the tv. Shizuo merely grinned, feeling victorious as he mixed together something sweet and smokey.

“ _Yeah, you fucken with some wet ass puss-,_ ” Shinra made a muffled noise of protest as Izaya clasped a palm over his mouth to stifle his singing.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” he said deadpan.

“What the _hell_ carl!” Shinra yelled back. Shizuo frankly had no idea what language they were talking anymore. It must be some weird flea-Shinra code only discernible to their ears.

“You’re going to scar your girlfriend for life, and me,” Izaya said as he and Shinra wrestled over control of the music. “What is this, YouTube? Shinra you heathen, where is your Spotify?”

Shinra replied by wrapping his arms around Izaya’s neck and hanging off him like some sort of tree monkey. “I don’t have it” Shinra sobbed.

“Yes you do it’s right here … wait,” Izaya snapped a wicked smirk onto Shizuo, “you’re following this neanderthal?”

Shizuo huffed, topping off two golden yellow drinks with a cinnamon stick each. “Shizuo-kun has really good taste Izaya … here I like this playlist.”

“Hmm,” Izaya hummed thoughtfully, scrolling through the list as if he was searching through dirty laundry. Just what secrets did he think a fucking playlist held for fuck sakes.

“Oi, Shinra.”

The doctor was quick to drop his attentions of Izaya and bound over like an excited puppy. “Oooh it looks so cool Shizuo-kun!”

“Ha, wait for it,” Shizuo pulled out his lighter, Shinra letting out more sounds of awe as he lit the ends of the two cinnamon sticks. They caught fire quickly, before simmering down to a small smoky ember. “My twist on an old fashioned.”

Shinra clapped happily, meanwhile Shizuo could see Izaya glaring from over the doctor’s shoulder. Bitter fucken flea.

“It’s goooooooodd! What is that? Maple?”

“Yeah.”

“Ooh I’m getting hints of citrus too!”

“That’s the orange peel.”

“Celty, you’ve _got_ to try this!” Shinra ran over to his girlfriend with his drink outstretched, seemingly forgetting she couldn’t taste without a head.

Shizuo took a satisfying sip of his own drink, the end of the cinnamon stick still smoking lazily. His eyes met Izaya’s over the rim of his glass, the flea looking down his nose at him with that same scrunched up look again. With a sigh he selected a song, throwing Shinra’s phone to the couch before making his way over.

Shizuo stilled his breath, body tense as if awaiting an attack. It would be just like Izaya to try and kill him to some jaunty pop tune.

“I want a drink.”

“Haaah?” Shizuo would say he was appalled at Izaya’s lack of manners if he hadn’t know the bastard for nearly a decade. The flea sat down in front of him, looking up at him with an expectant smirk. “I’m not wasting a good drink on your dirty backwash.”

Izaya rolled his eyes. “Something bitter.”

“Like you need it.”

“So quick-witted, don’t hurt yourself, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo was half tempted to pull the cinnamon stick out of his drink and shove it up Izaya’s nose. “Fine, you want a drink … I’ll making you a fucking drink.”

Izaya only looked entertained as Shizuo started grabbing bottles with a rough fury.

“Celty let’s dance!”

“Ugh, they’re so precious it makes me want to vomit,” Izaya mocked as Shinra started trying to twirl Celty around the room, much to Celty’s protests.

“I think they’re cute,” Shizuo snapped, unable to not contradict Izaya.

“That’s disgusting Shizu-chan,” Izaya looked like he was one step away from trying to wash Shizuo’s mouth out with soap. “I shudder to even think about what you consider romantic.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

“There’s some new gorilla’s at the zoo, maybe you could attract one with your beastly wiles.”

“You really never fucking shut up.”

Though Shizuo could vividly remember a time when Izaya had been silent. Unmoving.

_Don’t._

Izaya put a finger to his lips, but the action was ruined by the way his mouth turned up at the corners, as if he wasn’t even trying all that hard not to laugh. Shizuo took in the way his eyes danced with playful amusement. It was a good look on him, much better than-

_-don’t think about._

“Of course you’d pick this trash song, matches your shitty personality.”

“Oh?” Izaya leant back on stool, balancing on two legs before falling back to four. “Isn’t this your playlist Shizu-chan?”

“I’m deleting it,” Izaya just had to go and get his flea stench all over a goddamn song of all things. Shizuo would never be able to listen to it again without thinking of him and that was just too gross to think about.

Izaya let out a peal of laughter, similar to the way he had laughed at Shizuo in that alley. “Your single cell brain works in such mysterious ways, it almost makes me sick … but here’s hoping I can ruin this playlist, nay, music entirely for you.”

Shizuo had half a mind to spit in the bastards drink and then force it down his throat … but annoyingly enough he was pretty proud of this creation. “There,” Shizuo slammed the almost black drink down in front of Izaya. “ _The Flea_.”

“Should I feel honoured? To have my own genuine beast of Ikebukuro creation.”

“I hope you choke.”

Shizuo found himself staring as the flea smirked over the rim of the martini glass. Amaro Arvena, an Italian liqueur, bitter and black, infused with herbs and with a slightly red tinge to it. It matched Izaya perfectly, brought out the crimson in those mischievous eyes. Shizuo watched, captivated, at the flash of pink as Izaya’s tongue poked out of his mouth just before he took a short sip.

Shizuo felt like his body was starting to warm, like pleasant fire burning low in his gut. He couldn’t help it, the way he watched Izaya like he was almost prey, eyes drawing to the pale expanse of his throat when he swallowed. The flea’s eyes were hooded and the way he licked his lips was downright _sinful_.

“Mmmm,” Izaya made a sound of approval, “not too bad, Shizu-chan.”

_Fucking hell._

“You’re a goddamn pest,” Shizuo spoke into his drink. He was way too sober for this.

Izaya gave a shrug, a sly look on his face as he downed the entire glass in one go.

“Oi, you’re not supposed to skull it.”

“I’m catching up, you and Shinra had a head start after all,” Izaya placed the glass back down and slid it back over to Shizuo. “I’ll have an expresso martini next.”

“You’ll get whatever scraps I feel generous enough to give you, louse,” Shizuo growled, ideas for his next creation already coming to mind.

“Your customer service could do with some work.”

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra arrived in a flourish, slamming down in the stool next to Izaya so violently that the flea was almost pushed off his own. “I need another drink!”

“Both of you are demanding fucks.”

Izaya gave Shinra a playful shove back, laughing as the doctor’s arma windmilled before grabbing the bar before him. Shizuo felt slightly winded at the carefree look on Izaya’s face. He doesn’t think he had ever heard him laugh like that before. Completely at-ease and genuine, with not a hint of deception.

Shizuo could watch him laugh like that forever.

_Wait._

“Here,” Shizuo slammed a bottle of tequila and a shot glass down in front of Izaya. “Catch up.”

Izaya answered Shizuo’s challenging grin with one of his own.

“Shots, shots, sh-shots, shots!” Shinra started singing.

“You will actually die shitty doctor,” Shizuo snapped a warning, but he was ignored in favour of Shinra trying to follow the glass with his lips, as if he could get a sip in before Izaya. It was surprising, Shinra was so handsy with the flea, and the flea actually allowed it … Shizuo thought maybe with everything that had happened maybe the flea wouldn’t like being touched so casually, Shizuo knows he wouldn’t, and yet the flea doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.

It was kind of infuriating, that Shizuo was so messed up and Izaya wasn’t.

_Fucking shitty flea._

Izaya held a hand on Shinra’s face and pushed him away, quickly downing the shot before he could steal it.

Shizuo was once again caught himself staring at the flea’s throat.

“Dammit Shinra, go paw at monster girlfriend,” Izaya said batting the doctor’s hands away.

“She went to bed,” Shinra lamented, an ugly pout on his face. “You two have to entertain me.”

“Shizu-chan could try juggling furniture for you, if you want,” Izaya said with a condescending smirk.

Feeling a little buzzed, Shizuo met the flea’s smirk with a cocky grin of his own.

Careful not to shoot anything through the ceiling, Shizuo swung the bottle of Midori backwards. It flipped up and over his shoulder, and Shizuo raised an elbow to meet it as it came back down. With a flick of his arm the base of the bottle bounced off and spun once again, before he snatched it from the air with his other hand.

“Woo, go Shizuo!” Shinra clapped as Shizuo flipped the bottle in his hand and went straight to the pour.

The flea had a sour look on his face, like he was trying with every part of his being to not be impressed, because that would be too disgusting to even contemplate for someone like Izaya. “It’s like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.”

“C’mon Izaya, even you have to admit that was pretty good.”

“Yeah Izaya,” Shizuo mocked with his best flea imitation.

“What exactly is this? It looks toxic,” Izaya picked up his new drink, raising it to eye level as if to inspect the contents.

“It’s green!” Shinra shouted, sounding thoroughly amazed at the lime colour.

Shizuo ignored the two idiots, taking a sip of his own drink. A burst of sour apple exploded on his tongue, zingy and tingling.

“Wow this is so good!”

“It taste like pure sugar,” Izaya complained.

“It’s like a dance party in my mouth,” Shinra added, slurping at his drink happily. Shizuo had to agree with the doctor, Izaya was just an ungrateful bastard.

“Too much for you flea?” Shizuo laughed. “Maybe you should slow down if you can’t handle it.”

Izaya’s withering stare turned into wicked grin that made Shizuo’s blood sing. He answered by knocking the entire drink back in one go. “Who can’t handle what, Shizu-chan?”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Shizuo answered by downing his own drink.

“W-wait for me!”

“Shinra no!”

“Shinra yes!”

Shinra, in his eagerness to catch up, ended up choking which had Izaya laughing in that same laid-back way as before.

“Y-you,” Shinra choked out, “you guys are going to _kill me_.”

Izaya only held one arm around his waist as he laughed harder.

_Cutecutecutecutecute._

“Oh there’s a cherry in here!”

Just a little surprise at the bottom of the glass. Shizuo had unfortunately swallowed his whole when he downed his drink earlier. 

Izaya took a look down into his glass, as if surprised to see his own cherry there too. “Heh.”

Izaya looked back up and Shizuo was pinned with eyes full of mischief.

_Ohshit._

“Wanna see a trick, Shinra?”

“Ooh yes!”

“Watch this.”

Shizuo knew he would never be fucking prepared enough as Izaya gripped the cherry by the stem and lifted it to his mouth. He was facing Shinra on the barstool, but he kept his eyes locked on Shizuo.

Whose mouth was feeling incredibly dry.

Izaya lifted the cherry above his mouth, opening wide as he dropped the fruit in. Shizuo was hypnotised, and he couldn’t think past anything but mouth, lips, teeth, and tongue.

The louse gave a crooked closed-mouth smirk as he chewed, eyes closing in concentration and Shizuo followed the way he moved the cherry around in his mouth unblinking.

Shizuo couldn’t stop staring.

“Aaah.”

“Whoa!”

Shizuo almost passed out right then and there.

Izaya had swallowed visibly and then opened his mouth, a cherry stem tied into a perfect knot resting on his stuck out tongue. Shinra spoke up, his voice childlike and wonderous, nowhere near the level of depravity of Shizuo’s thoughts.

“Wow! You’re really good with your tongue, Izaya.”

The glass in his hands shattered, shards exploding outwards and showering over them all.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkk._

Shinra jumped and fell off his chair, while Izaya absolutely howled with laughter. Shizuo could feel his cheeks heating up and he made sure to look anywhere but the flea. His hands reached for the broken glass, as if he could sweep this whole thing up along with the pieces.

“Ooowwweeeeelllllttttyyyyy~!”

Shinra’s groan of pain turned to delight at the appearance of the Dullahan. She was in pink pyjamas and cute fluffy bunny slippers. Celty fingers were flying as she typed on her PDA, holding it out for Shizuo, **[What happened? Are you okay?]**

“It’s fine, do you have a dustpan?”

Izaya cackled even harder and Shizuo answered by shoving him off his barstool. The flea landed next to Shinra, and they both took one look at each other before cracking up again.

_Shitty, crappy, annoying, dam, **flea**. _

Celty quickly helped Shizuo clean up the broken glass, both of them flat out ignoring the pair of drunkards rolling around on the floor.

“Sorry.”

Shizuo didn’t know if he was apologising for the broken glass or just the entire night in general. He might have gotten a little carried away, which he firmly blamed on Shinra’s bad influence. Also, Izaya’s shitty presence hadn’t exactly helped matters.

**[It’s fine.]**

**[I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.]**

Shizuo scrunched up his face. He didn’t know if would go as far as to say that … but the night hadn’t been a total letdown. It was hard to beat himself up too much about losing control when the alcohol had left him feeling warm and content.

_Not to mention the heated look in the flea’s eyes._

Dammit, damn him. That shitty fucking flea was just too good at getting under Shizuo’s skin. Probably thought he had gotten away with the joke of the century on Shizuo. Shit, he _had_.

Whatever, Celty was an actual saint to put up with them all … especially Shinra, the lout.

“Celty my love~!” Shinra reached out with grabby hands as the Dullahan pulled him up and dumped him over his shoulder.

**[Bed time.]** Celty showed on her PDA, Shizuo merely raised his eyebrows in reply as the Dullahan turned and left.

“Kinky,” Izaya spoke over his shoulder.

“Ah!” Shizuo jumped, “don’t just pop up like that!”

Izaya snickered, moving back to the bar. He pulled himself up to sit on the benchtop, hands placed on either side of him so he could lean back suggestively. “Shinra is so getting pegged.”

Shizuo just groaned, rubbing between his eyes as if he could erase the images from his mind. He couldn’t help but notice the playlist had shuffled to a particularly sensual sounding song.

_And now the flea has ruined The Weekend for me too…_

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh? You didn’t seem to think that before, far from it actually,” Shizuo looked over at the flea. Was he crazy or were his eyes screaming out ‘come here’?

Was the flea a mind reader? Could he tell Shizuo was thinking exactly about the way he could slot himself perfectly between parted legs with the pest sitting like that?

“F-,” Shizuo quickly cut himself off, no, don’t say fuck.

Izaya knew exactly what he’d been planning to say, if the devilish grin on his lips was anything to go by. The flea reached a hand for a small pot on the counter, whole body curving with the motion as he pulled out another maraschino cherry.

_He’s a demon._

Shizuo quickly turned away, not wanting to watch Izaya put that damn thing in his mouth. Not seeing turning out to be even worse though, because now Shizuo was imagining all sorts of things.

Like taking that damn cherry out of the flea’s mouth with his own tongue.

_Fuckingfuckfuuuuccck._

Shizuo was either too drunk or not drunk enough for the flea’s mind games. Either way, he was going not going to stick around to find out … and he _definitely_ wasn’t going to fall for such a dirty trick just to have the louse laugh in his face.

“Im’ma bail,” Shizuo gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder. “Stay out of ‘bukuro, flea.”

Shizuo had only just made it to the door when he was attacked.

Izaya grabbed him, swinging him around and slamming him up against the wooden frame. “Fl-,” Shizuo didn’t even get the words out, didn’t even get a chance to discern the flea’s expression before Izaya’s mouth was descending upon his.

Shizuo’s head was dizzy from the sudden movement, body struck dumb as Izaya twisted fingers into his hair.

What was happening? What the FUCK was happening!? Izaya was kissing him. Izaya was fucking kissing him. Shizuo. Shizuo who Izaya hated. Shizuo was being kissed by Izaya. The flea. What the actual fuck!?

Shizuo’s hands came up to Izaya’s shoulders, ready to push him away, “W-.”

He doesn’t even get the words out. Izaya taking advantage of his open mouth to shove his tongue inside.

_He tastes like cherries._

All thoughts of confusion and protest vanish as instinct kicks in, and Shizuo can’t help the growl he lets out into the flea’s mouth. He moves his arms down to Izaya’s waist, pulling him in flush against his body. The louse lets out an eager moan and he licks into Shizuo’s mouth in such a filthy way it makes Shizuo’s head spin. Shizuo grabs the back of his head, forcing him to turn so he can kiss back even deeper.

If Shizuo’s body had been hot before it was practically on fire now. Like his blood had turned to molten lava, coming to a boil in his gut before an eruption. Holding onto Izaya right now was like trying to hold onto a wild animal. He pulled Shizuo in by the collar of his shirt, and at the same pressed in even closer if that was possible, rubbing his body up against Shizuo’s with untamed fervour.

Shizuo groaned at the way Izaya’s hips slotted against his, the way their groins rubbed together. He moved a hand to Izaya’s ass, desperate to pull that friction closer to him, gripping so hard he was sure there would be bruises in the shape his fingerprints left behind.

“Fuck,” Shizuo’s forced to break the kiss, forced to come up for air. Izaya dove down to his neck, leaving a trail of fire behind as he licks and sucks at Shizuo’s skin. Shizuo’s mouth is parted as he gasps for breath, hand kneading at the taut muscle of Izaya’s ass. God, his fucking ass, it was _perfect_. 

Izaya’s hands move from his neck to his chest, clawing at his clothes. He moves downwards, coming to the collar of Shizuo’s shirt. Shizuo’s not even able to take a breath before Izaya is ripping his vest and shirt open, the buttons flying off in several directions.

_You-_

Shizuo didn’t have a chance to even get angry at the cocky smirk on Izaya’s face before the flea was diving in to lick and kiss at his chest, his hands roaming their way downwards to the top of Shizuo’s pants. Every point of contact _searing_.

_Fuck._

Shizuo’s mind was catching up to his dick, coming to terms with what was actually happening right now. When Izaya’s tongue licked over his nipple, Shizuo quickly raised a fist to his mouth and bit down.

He could hear Izaya’s satisfied chuckle against his skin, mouth biting and sucking on the hardening nub. He swirled his tongue around the tip, and Shizuo couldn’t help but groan as his dick jumped in his pants, his mind conjuring the image of the tip of that tongue circling the head of his cock.

Shizuo was completely floored, Izaya’s entire mouth should be deemed illegal. Hell, he should be fucking arrested for crimes against decency and just-just fuck, that fucking _tongue_.

Shizuo could only pant into the fist in his mouth, hearting racing as he looked down at the top of Izaya’s head as he traced Shizuo’s abs with his tongue, slowly making his way downwards.

“Oh fuck.”

Izaya was on his knees, tugging Shizuo’s pants open roughly.

This couldn’t be reality. They were standing in Shinra and Celty’s living room for fuck sakes, and the flea was on his fucking _knees_ , looking like a man starving.

“Fuck, Izaya.”

“Heh, I quite like this side of you Shizu-chan,” how the hell could Izaya still sound _so dam smug_ as he nuzzled Shizuo’s clothed cock. “You’re making really cute noises.”

Shizuo whimpered as Izaya mouthed his erection through his underwear.

**_Fucking hell._ **

“Oh? You’re getting quite wet here,” Izaya pressed his fingers against a wet patch above the head of Shizuo’s dick.

“Fuck, _Izaya_!”

Izaya closed his eyes, as if savouring the pleading way Shizuo had said his name. “I could almost come hearing you sound like this.”

Illegal. That mouth should be illegal. The absolute _filth_ that spewed from it. Shizuo felt his cock twitch, and if Izaya’s self-satisfied smirk was anything to go by, so had he.

_I could almost come at the sight of you on your knees flea._

Shizuo’s hips jerked a little as Izaya pulled his underwear down, exposing his hard cock to the air.

“Easy beast,” Shizuo could feel Izaya’s breath brush over his cock, as the flea braced a forearm across Shizuo’s navel.

How the hell could Izaya make that stupid nickname sound so dam sexy? He said it like he was hungry, no, _ravenous_.

_I wanna touch you too._

With a trembling hand, Shizuo ran fingers through black silky locks. Izaya was staring up at him with those hooded eyes from earlier, black-red amaro liqueur overtaking brown whiskey, just like the cocktail he had made him. Dark and bitter and _hot_.

_He is stunning._

Without breaking eye contact, Izaya brushed his lips against the head of Shizuo’s cock in a chaste kiss.

Shizuo almost came right then and there.

“Fuck!”

Izaya laughed, the fucking _tease_. “That’s the idea, ne?”

And then Izaya swallowed his cock down almost down to the root, and Shizuo buckled at the waist, barely keeping on his feet. The moist heat that enveloped him was enough to drive him crazy, enough for him to want to grab Izaya by the head and fuck into that wet mouth with a ferocity only befitting a beast.

Izaya hummed, the noise a vibration against his cock. Shizuo’s hand was fisted in his hair, twisting so harshly it had to be painful, but the flea just looked back up at him with those eyes like dark Italian liqueur. 

“Y-you look _so_ fucking good right now flea, with my cock in your mouth.” Shizuo’s is surprised the words come out, his voice low and _filthy_.

Izaya moans at that, palming his at his own cock over his pants at Shizuo’s words. Shizuo can’t help the way his hips buck at the sight, but Izaya’s arm holds him down.

Slick velvet heat moves up his shaft, Izaya tonguing at the slit before releasing Shizuo’s cock with a harsh suck to the head. “If you can still talk I must be doing something wrong.”

Shizuo brain was meanwhile leaking out of his ears from Izaya’s rough treatment. Izaya shoots him a wicked grin, a devilish turn of his lips that promises sweet, hot things to come.

The flea dives back down, Shizuo’s mouth parted and panting, unable to stop the moans as Izaya’s head bobs up and down.

His head jerking.

_Wait, no._

Lifeless eyes.

_Stop._

Rutting, grunting. The revolting sound of pleasure as a dark stain bloomed outwards.

_No, no, no._

He can no longer see, thrown back into that hellish day. Shizuo is standing in the doorway, body frozen as Izaya’s lifeless eyes stare out at him. The body atop of his is grunting with its brutal onslaught, Izaya’s head forced to bob with each violent thrust, and Shizuo can’t move, can’t do anything but watch.

Watch as someone fucks Izaya’s dead body.

“What the fuck Shizuo!?”

Shizuo lashes out, against the horror of it all, throwing Izaya away from him with violent strength and fear. He can’t hear the sound Izaya’s body makes as it hits the floor, the huff of air that is forced from the flea’s lungs as he is winded by the force, it doesn’t piece through flashes of memory, through a mind trapped by terror, because all he can hear is the sound of groaning sick pleasure.

Shizuo hunches over, trying to put his softening dick back into his pants with shaking hands. His breathing is coming out in harsh gasps, and a small part of his mind thinks he might actually pass out from lack of oxygen. But none of that matters, all that matters is he has to get out, has to get away.

Izaya moves from where he had landed painfully on the floor, hands reaching out for Shizuo.

“ **Don’t fucking touch me!** ”

Izaya flinches back, Shizuo’s voice ripping from him like a physical blow.

“Shizu-chan...”

Shizuo can’t fucking breathe.

“Don't, just don’t.”

_Get out, just fucking get out of there._

His mind was far away, still trapped in that apartment, that day, fear pushing his body forward. 

In a flash he was out the door and running, leaving Izaya on the floor wide-eyed and stunned, wondering what the hell had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, what to say about this one. 
> 
> You might have guessed that I absolutely LOVE to write dialogue, especially banter. Like you got banter, sign me the fuck up. That is some gud shit. This was definitely a lighter chapter, and I had a lot of fun writing it. Also this is the first time I've ever written smut so please be gentle with me. I really struggled with trying to get the tenses right during that part, not sure whether I should try and keep with perfect present tense or switch to continuous tense, I dunno what do you guys prefer? 
> 
> I liked that we got to see some different sides to Shizuo and Izaya this chapter, and I absolutely LOVE writing Shinra. He's definitely my comic relief character for this fic. Poor Shizuo, looks like avoidance doesn’t work as well as he thought, at least he tried tho. Izaya meanwhile is a horny repressed gay who is confused af right now. Next chapter we will get to see the fallout from this chapter and what is going through Izaya's head (newsflash, Izaya is a lying liar who lies to himself). Shinra will also be there, because someone needs to call Izaya on his shit. 
> 
> Now some trivia! I actually was a bartender for a long time, so I'm living my bartending dreams out through Shizuo, and I also thought it was kind of nice to see him in that light. The drink Shizuo made for Izaya is kind of like a Black Manhattan but even more bitter, just for our bitter flea. The next drink is a Japanese Slipper, one of my fav drinks, which really does taste like sour apple. I, like Shizuo, love sweet things. Long Island Iced Teas are amazing cause they are lethal but don't taste like alcohol (you only need 1 and you're good for the night), and Yuzu Hachimitsu Sour is my go to drink at Izakaya.
> 
> For music I made Shizuo’s playlist my 2020 playlist because it’s what I was listening to when I wrote this. Izaya chose to play [ The Things I Thought Were Mine](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caCI5_03zzQ) by Alfie Templeman. Mostly I just liked the first line of _‘What makes you think you're too good for me?’_ cause ya know both Izaya and Shizuo are thinking that exact same thing about the other. Also you know they be fucking to The Weekend, need that sexy shit, if I had to pick a song of his probably [ Die For You](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTLQhPFx2nM) just cause of the sheer Shizaya vibes it gives me. Other contenders might be [Don’t Turn Around](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJtvztgf7gI) \- Biig Piig, [Body Language](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GtFi4wWdJ_E) \- GRAACE, [Heartless](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DpH-icPpl0) \- The Weekend (a little less sweet than Die For You) and yeah just basically all of The Weekend's songs. Honestly I just have too many Shizaya songs in my head. 
> 
> Okay this has gotten way too long. I have a [tumblr](http://lavenderboneswrites.tumblr.com/), so come and yell at me about Shizaya. 
> 
> -Bones.
> 
> P.S. no one can tell me that Izaya, who spends all his time on the internet and chat rooms, isn’t the fucking meme and vine king (long live vine). No, can’t believe that.


	4. Over Kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated tags: sleep paralysis, victim blaming

_This is the part where I tell you I'm fine, but I'm lying  
I just don't want you to worry  
This is the part where I take all my feelings and hide 'em  
'Cause I don't want nobody to hurt me_

‘Wishing Well’ – Juice WRLD

* * *

Izaya can’t move.

He’s paralysed.

Yet he can still feel every little thing.

The way fingers dig into his skin, or the hot _putrid_ breath against his neck, whispering a poisoned miasma. He feels the way his breathing slows, a stark contrast to the racing of his heart.

There’s nothing he can do.

Can’t force himself to take in deeper breaths. Can’t push the crushing weight atop of him away. Can’t fight back.

All he can do is lie motionless as his breathing comes to a slow, steady, stop.

He’s going to die.

He’s going to die and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He’s in his bed, stuck between sleeping and awake, but still aware. It’s torturous. It’s terrifying. But mostly it’s just infuriating. 

Izaya groans as he finally breaks through the sleep paralysis. He rolls over to his side, curling into a foetal position as his tries to slow his racing heart and shaky breath, stomach squirming and head pounding. 

His first thought is _, that goddamn incomprehensible **monster**._

Izaya hated being hungover, so much so that he rarely drunk if he could avoid it. Last night had been a rare occurrence for him, and he partly blamed Shinra’s bad influence.

He also blamed his inability to let Shizuo one up him.

_Stupid, unpredictable, **beastly** , Shizu-chan._

Izaya’s mind was still coming to terms with the fact the monster had _flat out_ rejected him.

Again.

Honestly if Izaya didn’t think he would throw up if he stood too fast, he would march right over to Ikebukuro and stab the neanderthal himself.

Izaya was not used to being rejected so outright, at least when it came to matters of sex. True most of his humans despised him greatly, thought him vile, and manipulative, and a whole other host of terrible things, but that didn’t mean some of them would give up the chance to fuck him if it passed them by.

Izaya knew he was attractive, he knew how to weaponize his looks when needed, and humans were so easily manipulated by sex after all. Still, Izaya was rarely the one who initiated, rather the one who was approached by interested parties; oftentimes more concerned with observing the human condition than any strong sexual desire on his part. 

Last night however had been very out of character for him, in so many ways … so having his own advances rejected by Shizu-chan, a monster of all people, made it sting all the more. 

What kind of person rejects a blow-job of all things? Shizu-chan was truly a special kind of beast.

Izaya still couldn’t believe he had acted like such a fool, he should’ve known better to believe Shizuo would ever even consider something like that. Though strangely enough, the beast had seemed just as into it into as Izaya had, if his reactions were anything to go by.

Not to mention the shameless _flirting_ throughout the night.

Izaya was observant, he knew exactly what was going through Shizuo’s tiny, amoeba sized head as the man watched him drink that bitter cocktail. Izaya had _thrilled_ at animalistic hunger in Shizuo’s eyes. He had half hoped the beast would just throw him down on the bar and fuck his brains out right then and there, Shinra and Celty’s presence be damned.

Izaya had half wondered if he had actually been aware of it at the time, that maybe it was just some inner beastly instinct Shizuo had, like a possessive dominance/prey drive. So of course he had to run further analysis.

The cherry trick had been probably been somewhat cruel, but Izaya was nothing if not thorough when it came to testing a hypothesis. After that Izaya was certain that Shizuo was interested, hell, it had been clear just from the look in his eyes.

Which is why Izaya had not let the beast get off so easily with an indifferent wave and ‘stay out of ‘bukuro’.

Shizuo’s little whimpers of pleasure were nothing that Izaya could’ve ever imagined, even in his wildest, wettest dreams. His eyes had been like molten gold, and Izaya had felt like he had been holding pure wildfire in his bare hands he had looked down at him so desperately. Izaya wanted to drive him _crazy_.

Izaya groaned once again, yet this time it had nothing to do with his hangover.

He would not jerk off to the thought of that neanderthal, not his cute little noises or the memory of his cock in Izaya’s mouth, hot and heavy against his tongue.

Not when he had thrown Izaya away from him so hard that he still had bruises on his shoulder-blades where he had hit the floor. He was lucky he hadn’t split the back of his head open.

It had been more than a rejection … Shizuo had _freaked_.

It was like a flip had switched in the beast’s brain and he suddenly lost his damn mind. And not in the pleasant way that he had been planning, Shizuo once again proving he was an unpredictable thorn in Izaya’s side.

It had been like that time in the alley, when Shizuo had shook like a leaf and vomited. Izaya scrunched up his face in displeasure at the memory of Shizuo acting so disgustingly pathetic.

That was not how a monster was supposed to act.

It was one of the reasons he despised Shizuo so much, Izaya really never could tell what that beast was thinking.

Why hadn’t he killed Izaya on sight? Why had he _saved_ him?

_I hate you Shizu-chan, you should just die._

Izaya had eventually managed to drag himself out of bed. A couple of aspirin and a litre of water later he was sprawled out on his couch, phone in hand as he scrolled through social media and chat rooms.

**[You have a delivery.]**

Izaya gave a grimace as his phone dinged with the message.

Was Celty actually going to make him come down and meet her? Izaya wasn’t getting up for anything right now, not even Shizuo’s head on a platter.

Izaya turned his head to his front door, a one-sided conversation coming from behind it. He didn’t even get a chance to call out before his door was swinging open.

Izaya could only laugh as Celty pushed Shinra into the room.

“Why are you in a wheelchair?”

“I want to die,” was Shinra’s answer.

He looked like death, face pale and clammy, his hair was a wild mess on his head, like it had been wet when he went to sleep and dried every which way. His glasses were gone, the strong prescription most likely making his headache and nausea worse. There was a blanket draped across his legs, and Izaya laughed even harder.

“Ow,” Izaya held a hand to his temple, laughing physically hurt. “I don’t remembering ordering a half-dead doctor.”

Celty pushed the wheelchair to the couch, tipping it and dumping Shinra onto the cushions none too gently.

**[Are you sure you will be okay?]** Izaya read the text for Shinra on Celty’s PDA.

‘Are you sure you want to be here with _him_ ’ was probably what Celty actually meant. 

“Ah, my darling Celty, love of my life,” Shinra was slipping off the couch, torso half on the cushions as he tried to army crawl his way back up; he spoke as if he was on his death bed and this was his last goodbye. “Don’t worry about me, Izaya and I shall commiserate together over our shared suffering.”

If Celty had a head, Izaya thought she’d be rolling her eyes right about now.

Shinra finally managed to pull himself onto the couch, like a man struggling to reach a summit, head resting in the corner adjacent to Izaya’s. “Go Celty, leave me to my misery,” he sighed dramatically.

Celty gave one last look at Izaya, or at least he thought she did, her shadows spilling out in a contemplative way before she pocketed her phone and turned to leave.

“Goodbye my love~!” Shinra called to her retreating figure, “may we meet again in another lifetime.”

Izaya grabbed a pillow and shoved it over Shinra’s face.

“Is your hangover so bad you felt the need to come and annoy me with it too?”

“Izaya~! We’re _bonding_.”

“Don't say such disgusting things Shinra.”

“You’re so cruel to me.”

“It’s because you’re so utterly pathetic right now,” Izaya gave a wry, some might say an almost fond smile as he insulted the doctor.

“And you’re the picture of health.”

“Says the guy who came here in a _wheelchair_.”

“What about you? You’re not hungover?”

“I feel great.”

“Really?”

“No I threw up in the shower.”

“I threw up in bed, do you think Celty’s mad?”

Izaya snorted, imaging the long night and morning the Courier had been forced to endure looking after Shinra.

“You are going to have to do some major grovelling, something I’m sure you’re an expert at by now with all the shit you pull.”

“I don’t want hear that from someone like _you_.”

Horrible birds of a feather flock together, that’s how that saying went, right?

“What even happened last night? I can barely remember a thing.”

_‘You look so fucking good right now flea, with my cock in your mouth.’_

Izaya was envious, if only he could forget that easily.

“You made a fool of yourself,” Izaya mocked, not sure if he was still talking about Shinra.

“I’m just surprised I didn’t find you and Shizuo dead on my floor … did you actually manage to get along for once?”

“Ugh,” Izaya made sure to put every ounce of revulsion he could muster into his words, “what did I say about saying such things?”

“Heh,” Shinra smirked, that annoying conspiring look in his eyes, “you know, now that I think about of it, I kind of remember watching you guys eye fuck each other all night.”

Izaya rolled over and moved his arms up and under the pillow beneath him, eyes closed as he smirked into soft material, his voice the epitome of innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Riiiiight,” Shinra’s sarcasm was noted and ignored. Izaya could hear the doctor running his hands over the fabric beneath him, his voice turning contemplative as he asked, “did you get a new couch?”

_Subtle, Shinra, real subtle._

“Did you expect me to keep the couch that someone dry humped my paralysed body on?” Izaya said with closed eyes and a callous smirk.

“You are a horrible person,” Shinra said sounding nothing short of aghast, yet Izaya could tell it for the fake outrage it was. “Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because you’re just as horrible.”

One thing to come out of the whole paralysed and nearly dying thing was the improvement in Izaya and Shinra’s relationship. Though it might just because they were both equally horrible people, probably why they got along so well in the first place.

Izaya had finally woken up after four days, to an extremely sore throat and an even more annoying doctor by his side. Shinra had stayed for almost two weeks before Izaya finally got fed up and kicked him out the door. Actually, Izaya was fed up day one, but Shinra was extremely stubborn and pigheaded, and just refused to leave.

Izaya hated to admit it, but it had been kind of nice to have someone in the apartment with him, though Shinra didn’t really do much caretaking and was more of a general nuisance, but he had been there. Lounging around, watching movies and dumb videos, talking about everything and nothing in between.

Though Izaya thought Celty didn’t seem particularly thrilled at their reignited friendship. It was no secret how she felt about Izaya, not that Izaya cared about what a monster thought about him. Shinra annoyingly wanted Celty by his side 24/7, so it was either let her visit or be involuntarily sedated and moved to Shinra’s apartment so the lovers wouldn’t be parted (Shinra’s words). Luckily for Izaya, Celty didn’t take up the invitation very often.

Izaya, of course, had gotten back to work as soon as possible, despite Shinra’s protests that he needed rest. This included tracking down his assailant and everyone else involved. Izaya had been pleasantly surprised at how neatly it had all come together in the end, and while his involvement had been minimal at best, he had closure and was ready to move on.

Which would be easier if people weren’t trying to bring it up every five minutes.

Shinra made a thoughtful noise, like it didn’t really matter to him either way. “How is your sleep paralysis going?”

One annoying part of having Shinra hanging around was that he had been there when Izaya had his first experience with sleep paralysis. Of course the confusion and lingering fear made everything worse, and Izaya was embarrassed to remember how pathetic he acted in front of Shinra. Trembling and panicking, struggling to bring his own body back under control. At least he hadn’t cried.

Now _that_ would’ve been truly mortifying.

“How do you _think_ it’s going?” He spat sarcastically.

“Bad?” Shinra offered unhelpfully. Izaya only snorted in response.

The sleep paralysis wasn’t what Izaya would call a good time, but he was getting used to it, at least now he was able to stop it from affecting him as badly as the first time.

“Are you still hallucinating?” Izaya made a noncommittal noise. “It's just the chest pressure hallucinations, right?”

Izaya gave a lazy half shrug. Shinra did not need to know about any of his hallucinations, that was private.

“You know, you’ve really perfected the skill of avoidance, it’s almost like an artform when you do it.” Shinra added, obviously looking for a way to irritate Izaya into talking. “Or you’re just that deep in denial.”

Izaya rolled his eyes under closed lids. He wasn’t in denial. Just because he dealt with things differently compared to others, it didn’t mean he was in denial. He wasn’t.

Izaya thought he had handled it all pretty well actually, sure it had sucked but he was alive, he’d been proactive in his vengeance, and now it was done and over.

_So could you please stop talking about it, Shinra._

“I don’t think you have any right to lecture anyone on anything.”

“Ooh trying to flip it back onto me, classic avoidance strategy right there.”

Izaya grumbled into his pillow. Shinra really was irritating. “I’m already hungover as fuck, do you have to be annoying on top of it?”

“Avoiding~!” Shinra sung.

“What exactly do you want me to say then?” Izaya felt very snappish, wishing they could just move on from this topic.

_Why can’t they all just get over it?_

Izaya had.

“I told you, I can prescribe antidepressants to help with the sleep paralysis.”

“And I told you no.”

He was _not_ depressed, he did not need medication.

“It’s just to help regulate your sleep,” Shinra lectured. “Maybe if you developed some healthier habits you wouldn’t need them.”

“My habits are plenty healthy, thank you very much.”

“Now you’re just straight up lying, which I guess I should just expect by now.”

Really, why was Shinra even acting like he cared in the first place?

The entire time he was paralysed Izaya couldn’t move a muscle, not even his eyes to look around; he could see and feel, and most importantly, he could still hear. He would admit that it was terrifying, to have all control wretched away from him like that. To be stuck still while his heart raced and his breathing slowed.

Naturally Izaya had looked for a way to distract himself, and the logical part of his mind had grabbed onto the active senses he still had, desperate to observe what was going on around him instead of being forced to face his own impending doom. 

It had certainty been entertaining to listen to Shinra torture someone for his sake. Though Izaya was not naïve enough to believe that Shinra’s intentions had been altruistic, more like a kid who just didn’t want someone else breaking his toys. The doctor truly was a fascinating human being.

His attacker? Not so much, Izaya had thought him rather tedious to be honest. And Shizu-chan? Well Shizu-chan was a whole other beast.

“Speaking of being a liar, are you still pretending you hate Shizuo?” Shinra’s brows were furrowed as he stared up at the ceiling. “You seemed to get along well enough last night. And I thought maybe you guys could try and patch things up now considering he did save your life and all.”

_Don’t fucking remind me._

Shinra had saved his life, Shizuo just blubbered and panicked like a fool.

Izaya didn’t spend his time observing the monster if he could help it, he much preferred his wonderful humans, but Shizuo’s reactions had been rather interesting that day. In a purely objective way of course.

Subjectively?

It had been nothing short of hell.

Izaya was unable to show his own surprise and confusion as the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro had kicked down his door. Sure, Shizuo showing up to kick his ass wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it wasn’t like it happened every day. It was nothing short of abhorrent miracle he was there.

Of course it just had to be the beast to witness him such a state. Izaya was just that lucky.

Izaya too had shared Shizuo’s shock and confusion at seeing him that day, but that had just been the start. Nothing could have prepared Izaya for the look of terror that had crossed the monster’s face as he stared at him from the doorway. It was like nothing Izaya had ever seen before, he wasn’t even sure Shizuo could make such a face, that he wasn’t just having some fucked up drug-induced hallucination.

Shizuo of course had proved very quickly he was real by letting out a beastly roar and sending his attacker flying.

And then he was at Izaya’s side.

Izaya frowned into his pillow, not appreciating Shinra’s obnoxious and abrupt change of subject.

“I know you’re not aware how normal people act when getting along but last night was not it.” Izaya was careful not to acknowledge either of Shinra’s two other points.

“For you guys it was practically civil,” Izaya made an unattractive sound at Shinra’s words, somewhere between a laugh, a snort, and an unimpressed huff. 

“You know,” Shinra began, casually changing the subject again, as if he wasn’t intentionally trying to bring this all up for his own selfish reasons, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him quite so scared as when he called that day. He was so terrified … I didn’t know if I would be able to calm him down.”

Izaya hadn’t known what to think either as Shizuo had basically lost it, and not in his usually beastly way. It boggled the mind, how the monster could even look like that, sobbing and shaking and scared, like something precious was being forcibly ripped away from him. Izaya had never imagined that he could get such a reaction out of the beast, not even in his most vile and vicious fantasies where he dreamed of breaking Shizuo completely.

Izaya didn’t need Shinra putting that disgusting image in his head. Not more than it already was.

“He’s a strange guy,” Shinra continued, ignoring Izaya’s no so subtle tactic of trying to distance himself from the discussion with silence. “You know he couldn’t even watch as I tortured your attacker?”

“Shizu-chan’s contradictory nature is quite revolting, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as that … but he is definitely contradictory,” Shinra half agreed, not that Izaya cared about this conversation very much.

_And I got on my fucking knees for that beast._

“He’s actually kind of timid when you think about it.”

“A timid monster, how perverse.”

“Tell me, Izaya, is it easier to be angry at Shizuo rather than face your own trauma?” Shinra spoke as if he was merely discussing the weather and not that fact that someone had attacked and almost murdered him.

If Izaya was being honest with himself, he would actually have to agree with Shinra, because yes, it was easier.

Seeing Shizuo like that, completely pathetic, it had been Izaya’s breaking point.

His heart had raced and his lungs had slowed, a panic born of mortal fear unable to show through a body paralysed. He had felt _everything_. Every-fucking-thing. Fingers clawing at him, it felt like they were tearing apart his skin, ripping into his chest cavity and shredding the very thing he’d thought he’d long forgotten.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, could’ve even laugh. God how he had wanted to laugh, wanted to shriek with it, so loud that it tore his oesophagus and burst his eardrums. It was infuriating, it was maddening, and Izaya felt as if his very sanity was being ripped away from him.

But he could deal with it.

Because it was one of his humans, and his humans were incapable of hurting him. If that was the way they wanted to show their love then Izaya would gladly welcome them with open arms. In fact, he was even somewhat flattered and almost gleeful that a human would go so far to hurt him, that he meant so much to them.

What he could not deal with was Shizuo. Stupid, bumbling, idiotic, monstrous Shizuo. Who had came along made everything a hundred times worse.

Because Shizuo wasn’t human.

So instead of terror, of anguish, of a hurt that went so deep it was as if a chasm had opened up, he had grabbed onto the only thing he had left.

Rage.

It had been so, _so_ easy. Shizuo, a shining beacon for all his hatred. Never had Izaya wanted to kill someone as much as he did at that moment, it was more than a desire, it was a visceral need.

He didn’t just want Shizuo dead, he wanted to destroy him, to rip and shred and tear with his bare hands until nothing of the man remained. His very soul was salivating for a massacre, like some kind of _monstrous beast._

Izaya had grabbed onto that hatred and rage like a clutch, and at the time it had saved his mind from shattering, but now it was over, and yet he couldn’t quite seem to pull his foot from the pedal and hit the brakes.

That same constricting fury was beginning to slither through too tight veins once again, and Izaya decided saying nothing at all would be best.

Shinra probably already knew too much as it was.

“It’s obvious he cares about you, even I can see it, hell, you’d have to be blind not to.”

Izaya barked out a biting laugh. “You’re delusional Shinra, I hate him and he hates me, it's as simple as that.”

Shinra’s unimpressed look said it was far from simple, yet Izaya was not particularly in the mood to discuss this. 

Why did Shizuo even care in the first place? He should’ve been out celebrating, not helping save his mortal enemy. Instead he had gone and ruined everything, thrown their entire dynamic to the wind and Izaya was left floundering.

“God watching you jump from one lie to another is exhausting, aren’t you tired of it?”

“I feel more tried by your thinly veiled attempts at manipulation,” Izaya responded pleasantly, no hint of his actual annoyance visible. 

“Not everything is some grand manipulation all the time, yet you’re so incredibly defensive, funny that. Maybe I’m just trying to have a conversation with you?”

“Then stop trying.”

“I will if you tell me what happened last night,” Shinra’s grin was downright devious, as if he had been planning to box Izaya into this corner all along.

And he had the audacity to claim he wasn’t manipulative.

“Nothing happened,” Izaya act was completely convincing, an effortless performance of nonchalance.

“Oh now I _know_ something did,” Shinra rolled over onto his stomach and placed his chin in his hands, kicking his legs back and forth in the air. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

Izaya would rather die.

Shinra’s grin finally turned wicked. “Does it have anything to do with the buttons I found all over the house this morning?”

Izaya quickly pulled the pillow out from under him and put it over his head.

“Oh so it does?”

How could he be so foolish? Had all logical thought escaped him? Or had he been too busy thinking with his dick? Those fucking buttons. Fucking Shizu-chan.

Izaya let out a long suffering sigh, honestly he wasn’t surprised he didn’t just scream into his couch cushions.

He could talk his way out of this, he could say it happened due to a skirmish, that Izaya had cut the buttons off with his flick blade while trying to kill Shizuo, he could-,

“-Did you guys fuck?”

“Shinra!” Izaya sits up like he’s been jolted with an electric shock. Did Shinra just have to come out and say it like that!? 

“Oh my god you did!” Shinra dissolved into laughter, rolling around on the couch like he couldn’t breathe it was that funny. “No stop, I can’t-,”

Izaya quickly pulled his reactions back to something a little more composed, he wasn’t mortified, or outraged, or _dying_ , “-we did _not_.”

“Oh? That’s a shame.”

“Why is that a shame? Wait- I don’t actually want to know,” Izaya tried to keep his voice level, though it sounded a little too shrill in his ears to be considered completely calm.

“So, how was it?” Shinra asked with a smug smirk. “Can you even walk?”

Izaya pushed Shinra off the couch.

“Oh, that good?” He spoke from the floor, no sense of self-preservation at all. “You know, I’d prefer if next time you two didn’t do it in my house.”

“You’re enjoying this a lot, aren’t you?”

“Oh you have no idea, watching you guys is better than watching a soap, I’ve had money on your ‘will they, won’t they’ for years.”

Izaya can only groan, pinching the spot between his eyes. “You’re the worst.”

_I have to kill Shinra, he knows and I have to kill him._

“Anyway,” Izaya crossed his arms and slumped back into the back of the couch. He made sure he stomped his feet down on Shinra’s stomach painfully. “Nothing even happened, not unless you count a monster having a freak out.”

Shinra sniggered but then quickly sat up as if what Izaya was surprising. “Wait, what do you mean ‘freak out’?”

Izaya looked down at Shinra, was it really that shocking? They did hate each other after all.

Apparently it was only Izaya who was up some for some mind blowing hate-sex.

Izaya gave a careless wave, “one minute he was fine, and the next…”

_Don’t fucking touch me!_

Izaya could still feel the way Shizuo’s voice has practically tore out from him and lodged in Izaya’s ribcage. Never had heard him so terrified.

No, that wasn’t right. There was one other time.

Izaya can’t move, can’t lift his arms to reach out to touch the trembling face above his.

“Damn Izaya, what did you do to him?”

“What? Nothing!” Izaya tried not to sound too offended by that accusation. “I mean, nothing he didn’t like.”

He ignored Shinra’s snicker at that. “Oh man, I wanna know _so_ bad.”

“I’m so glad you’re entertained right now,” Izaya’s voice was beyond sarcastic.

Shinra waggled his eyebrows and Izaya was forced once again to roll his eyes. “It’s weird he freaked out though. He wasn’t just rejecting you again, right?”

Izaya snapped a murderous look onto Shinra, who raised his arms as if he could placate the prickly informant. “Ah, right, sore spot.”

“It’s not-,”

“-but it’s not exactly a secret Shizuo is _obsessed_ with you, he’s as bad as you are in that regard.” Shinra spoke over Izaya, a hand coming to his chin as if he was ready to put for his own scientific theory on the inner workings of the monster’s mind. “Shizuo’s all instinct when it comes to you, add the fact he’s attracted to you-, I mean he’s always thought you were pretty, which he _hates_ …”

Izaya didn’t have time to unpack all that, just how in the hell did Shinra come to the conclusion that Shizuo thought he was pretty? Izaya needed those receipts, stat.

He almost had to bite his lip so he wouldn’t end up asking Shinra more about it, god forbid he appear too interested. The idiot knew too much already.

“-and not to mention that cherry trick,” -Izaya can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that crosses his face, which of course Shinra notices with an unimpressed look, “seriously, I thought he was gonna have a heart attack last night. You’re a real sadist sometimes.”

“If only,” Izaya said wistfully. If he could induce a heart attack in the monster and kill him that would be lovely. “Also you totally helped, ‘oh Izaya you’re so good with your tongue’” Izaya mimicked.

“What can I say, messing with Shizuo is pretty fun!” Shinra chirped happily. “Also, for someone who claims to hate Shizuo and wants him dead, you’re really going about it in a strange, rather horny way.”

Izaya tries to kick Shinra, but the doctor just grabs onto his ankle and tries to swing his leg back and forth playfully. “Wow, you really are pent up.”

Izaya tips his head back, feeling thoroughly exhausted.

_I really need to let off some steam, which I would’ve got to do last night if it wasn’t for the stupid beast._

“Fuck.”

“There, there,” Shinra pats Izaya knee in a comforting way. Though it really just comes across as patronising. “You’ll get him next time.”

“Please stop talking Shinra.”

“Hmm,” Shinra leans his head against Izaya’s leg, “how exactly did he freak out by the way?”

“Does it matter?”

As far as Izaya was concerned Shizuo had blown his one and only chance. There was no way in hell Izaya would give the beast another shot, no matter how ‘pent up’ he might be. It would be back to their regular scheduled programming from now on … and hopefully Shizuo could act like he was supposed next time and try to kill Izaya on sight.

Izaya was definitely planning on filleting the beast himself.

“He said you two had a run in the other day.”

Izaya snorted in a very immature way. “Shizu-chan is completely incomprehensible I swear.”

“Did you fight?”

If you could even call it that.

Izaya should’ve at least been able to take solace in the fact that everything was over, and that he and Shizuo could back to killing each other like usual. However, once again, Shizuo had to go ahead and fuck up a perfectly good thing.

Izaya had been less then pleased when the beast had tried to bring up that day again. What the fuck was it even to him? So naturally Izaya had set out to enrage the beast, hoping he would be able to gut him properly this time, revenge for everything Shizuo had done.

It hadn’t happened like that though, because Shizuo had done _nothing_.

No rage, no monstrous rampage.

Instead Izaya was once again met with that pathetic and disgusting side of the beast.

He fucking _despised_ him for it.

Admittedly Izaya had taken it a little far, especially the spitting, not his finest moment … but he had just been so, goddamn, angry. Embers of that day had reignited, a rage burning so hot it almost consumed him. Which was ironic as hell considering it was Shizuo he had been dealing with, but he had just lay there useless as shit. Izaya had kicked him, had spat at him, threatened to cut out his eyes, and yet nothing he did made the beast snap, so trapped he was in panic.

Oh sure he seemed angry, through all the shaking and crying, Shizuo was always angry after all, but he had held back, and that was unforgiveable.

Did he think Izaya was now somehow weak?!

_I will kill him._

“He had a panic attack.”

“Ah,” Shinra spoke as if he wasn’t surprised in the least. “I guess that makes sense…”

In what way did any of this make sense?

Shizuo was acting completely out of character, almost as if really did have some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. Which was ludicrous, because Shizuo was not human, and therefore should not be able to be affected by such a human consequence. Izaya doubted he could even spell the word traumatic let alone experience it.

But it wasn’t impossible, the symptoms were there after all, visible for all to see.

Izaya wasn’t sure how he felt about that train of thought, wholly nauseated if he had to sum it up. Animals could experience trauma too, that wasn’t uncommon, especially with strays. Perhaps it was possible that monsters could be traumatised as well? Or maybe Izaya was just desperately grasping at straws.

_I guess I’ll just have to test it, ne?_

Izaya is brought out of his musings by Shinra, “-leave it to you break Shizuo in such a unintended way, ha, I bet this has thrown a real wrench in your petty little schemes, right?”

Izaya shoves at Shinra’s head at that cheap shot, “Your high opinion of me is noted, Shinra … and just what exactly are you implying?”

“Oh nothing.”

“ _Clearly_.”

“I just meant, you didn’t orchestrate this all just to fuck with Shizuo right? I’ll be really pissed if you did.” Shinra had the gall to glare at Izaya, like his words hadn’t been a slap in the face.

“Wow,” Izaya face hurt from how wide he was smiling. The muscles in his cheeks were stuck, teeth visibly clenched so hard Izaya could almost hear the grinding in his head. “I’m not going to even dignify that with a response.”

Izaya was in a bad mood as it was, he was hungover, not to mention being forced to relive that day and think of beastly Shizu-chan. It was enough to infuriate anyone, and now Shinra had gone ahead and ripped the rug right out from under his feet.

He felt as if his blood was boiling, bubbling away as it moved slowly through his body to his diaphragm, where it actually ached like a physical pain. Izaya couldn’t show it, couldn’t let Shinra know, and he felt it all turn inwards, to the point he actually wanted to punch himself, scratch himself, just hurt himself in some way so he could let it all out.

“Can you blame me for asking?” Shinra offered unapologetically, though Izaya was sure it was because of the frankly terrifying smile on his face, eyes slitted like daggers. “It’s not like you haven’t done some fucked up things in the past … not to mention how self-destructive you are. It’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility.”

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you save it for Shizuo,” Shinra joked cheerily, making Izaya scowl further.

How typical, Shinra’s ability to pinpoint what exactly would get a reaction from Izaya and bulldozing straight ahead with such an underhanded tactic. And like a moron, Izaya had fallen right for it. Worse, he could see it for the cheap manipulation it was from the start, but he’d been unable to stop himself.

And the worse thing was Shinra was acting like he hadn’t even done it. Oh, of course he _knew_ , knew just how furious he’d made Izaya, which was why he was casually changing the course of conversation. Shinra might be reckless but he wasn’t suicidally stupid … he knew exactly how much to push Izaya before pulling back, how to deal maximum damage to the informant but with little repercussions for himself. 

Izaya should stab him.

“You’re an actual sociopath, you know that right?”

“Hmm?” Shinra made a noise of mildly feigned interest. “What’s that now?”

“Fucking hell, and people wonder why you’re friends with me and not the other way round … like you’re not a thousand times worse.”

“Oh, are you upset?” Shinra did his famous head tilt, cute if the juxtaposition to his personality wasn’t so nauseating.

Really, Shinra was such a fascinating human … and if Izaya could observe him without the interference of _attachment_ , well that would be the dream.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Izaya feels like he might burst a blood vessel as Shinra poked him in the side like a nagging child. “Let’s get greasy food and watch vines.”

“Jeez, I can’t deal with your manic train of thought.”

“Parkour!”

Izaya can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

Shinra wasn’t trying to make him feel better, no, that would indicate guilt and that was definitely not something the doctor was capable of feeling.

“You’re so selfish.”

“Hah? Why?”

“Not to mention unaware.”

“I take offense to that you know, I would selflessly sacrifice my very life for my Celty’s~!”

“You’d sacrifice anything to get what _you_ want.”

“There’s a difference?”

It was like talking to a child, Izaya half wanted to laugh, half wanted to scream.

Shinra made himself comfortable, stretching out on the couch and snuggling into the corner and Izaya’s side as he grabbed his phone. “So what are you going to do about Shizuo?”

Leave it to Shinra to be the most fucking selfish, hurtful, oblivious idiot on the planet and then turn around and try and lecture Izaya on his life.

So what if Shizuo had some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder? It wasn’t Izaya’s problem. It certainly wasn’t his fault either.

“I’m not going to do _anything_ … except shred that beast the next time I see him.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days, hm?”

“I want hash browns,” Izaya very maturely changed the subject. “And a bacon and egg McMuffin.”

“Ooh, yes, don’t stop,” Shinra replied deadpan. “Love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Izaya could only roll his eyes and Shinra scrolled through the food ordering app. Normally he wasn’t one for junk food but desperate times called for desperate measures. Plus his hungover body was craving salt.

“Maybe you could try talking to him instead of the usual fighting, might do you both some good.” Izaya remained silent, stealing the phone off Shinra to mess with his order. “Wait, I don’t like pickles.”

“What was that? Double pickles?” Izaya tapped on plus button violently. “Maybe if I order a whole bucket of pickles I can shove them down your throat … might get you to shut up.”

“No thanks, if I’m gonna do food-play it will be with my beloved.”

“ _Quadruple_ pickles.” 

“Kyaa~! You’re so mean to your only friend.”

“Someone who claims to be my friend should probably not point out he’s the only one, it’s rather cruel don’t you think?”

Izaya doesn’t know what he’s going to do about Shizuo, and really, he should do nothing, but as he had learned from the past two times they interacted, doing nothing wasn’t exactly helping matters. Sure Izaya could hope that the next time they saw each other everything would be back as it was with Shizuo trying to kill him, but he wasn’t that naïve.

Shizuo needed to pay for his revolting behaviour, for everything he had done to Izaya in the span of a few short weeks. Izaya would prove there was nothing but hatred between them, prove once and for all that Shizuo was nothing more than an inhuman monster.

*

Shizuo almost falls over in his haste to reach the knocking at his door.

He’s pulling a jumper over his head when it starts, and he can’t help but feel a snap of irritation at his unexpected Sunday afternoon visitor.

“Celty,” Shizuo says deadpan as he opens the door to the black rider.

She’s got her helmet on, and Shizuo waits as she types out several things on her PDA and deletes before showing him a **[you look terrible!!!]**

She’s not wrong. His eyes are red rimmed and sunken, black bags heavy under them. His skin is ashen with an almost green tinge to it, that blends with his hair in an unpleasant way. His teeth feel fuzzy in his mouth and his breath is probably toxic right now. He hopes Celty doesn’t have a sense of smell even without a head.

**[Are you okay? How much did you drink last night?]**

Shizuo wanted to laugh but he thought if he did it would probably come out as tears.

Last had been nothing short of a disaster.

The flea … the fucking _flea_.

Shizuo was not entirely sure how he made it home, body moving on autopilot as his mind tortured him with those damn flashbacks. He was barely able to breathe let alone move.

It could’ve taken him five minutes, it could’ve take him hours, Shizuo had no idea but somehow he had ended up in his bed. He had spent the night trying to physically hold himself together, the tremors wracking his body nonstop. He’d finally fallen asleep only to be assaulted with a nightmare so vivid he’d woken up screaming.

Shizuo had forced a long metal object into Izaya’s slack mouth, forcing his lips and throat to spread. His body had been limp and eyes empty as Shizuo had fucked into his mouth, head bobbing with every violent thrust.

Shizuo had promptly turned over and vomited over the side of his bed, the noxious mix of alcohol and stomach bile making his head spin even worse. He’d spent the rest of the night awake and sobbing.

He wasn’t sure if he had gone back to sleep at one point, or if he had just passed out from the panic attack, but eventually it was morning and he was feeling wrecked. He’d gotten up, cleaned up the mess at the side of his bed, promptly tried to drown himself in the shower, and eventually had just decided to go back to bed for a few hours.

“I’m not hungover,” Shizuo stated, though if emotional hangovers were a thing…

If black smoke could look disbelieving than that was definitely what Celty was thinking right now.

**[Oh … okay.]**

-Pause.

**[Do you want to go out for a walk?]**

Shizuo couldn’t think of a reason to say no, which was why, after he asked for five minutes to brush his teeth, he found himself at the park close to his apartment.

He lit up a cigarette, relishing in the fresh air and the sun on his face as he and Celty leaned against a metal railing that lined the smoking zone.

[So … how are you? I haven’t seen you around lately.]

Shizuo gave a snort, as if that wasn’t a completely loaded question.

“I saw you last night.”

**[You know what I mean.]**

Right, the whole month Shizuo had been ignoring Celty.

She seemed to sense he wasn’t ready to broach the topic just yet, so she quickly typed, **[Shinra was a mess … I’m still mad at him.]**

“What he do?” Shizuo asked, not actually all that curious at the answer.

His mind was elsewhere.

Celty’s smoke bloomed, as if just the thought of Shinra’s indiscretion were making her mad.

**[He vomited in the bed and then passed out in his own vomit!]**

**[I had to chuck him in the shower in the middle of the night, and wash all the bedding.]**

Shizuo winced, trying at least to empathise with his friend’s misery; but to be honest, he would take looking after Shinra over the night he had. And _that_ was saying something.

**[I dropped him off at Izaya’s earlier … I was sick of dealing with him.]**

Shizuo gut clenched.

Izaya … _Izaya_.

He couldn’t think of him without remembering. His mouth, his tongue, that hot look in his eyes as he swallowed down Shizuo’s cock. Every thought made him want to scratch his skin off.

It wasn’t fair.

They were quite possibly the first positive thoughts he’d ever had about the flea, nice thoughts, hot thoughts, and now they were associated with panic and dread. For fuck sakes he had had the flea on his goddamn _knees_ … and Shizuo had fucked it all up.

He couldn’t quite get the flea’s wide eyed look of confusion out of his head either.

Most of all, he couldn’t get out that dam image of Izaya head limp and his eyes lacking all life.

Shizuo just wished it would all stop.

**[Shizuo?]**

Staring down at the text before him, Shizuo realised had been quiet for some time now.

**[Are you okay?]**

There was that question again.

He gave a laugh, self-deprecating and sharp. “I don’t fucking know.”

Celty didn’t type out a reply, she was giving him time to answer.

“No,” he added, “no I’m not okay.”

He hated how small his voice was when he said it. He made a ‘tch’ noise, dropping his finished cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his heal.

**[Does it have anything to do with what happened to Izaya?]**

Shizuo wanted to cry.

_‘Stop it! Stop fucking crying!’_

Shizuo was so sick of crying.

“Is it that obvious?” He lit up another cigarette. Fuck cutting back…

Celty brought her PDA to her hand to type but paused, as if trying to think of exactly what to say.

**[Shinra said you were really scared that day … I think it even scared him a bit.]**

“Yeah, right.”

Shinra wasn’t capable of fear, didn’t know the taste of it like Shizuo did, intimately.

**[Maybe you should talk to someone about it?]**

“What, like a therapist?” Shizuo felt his very soul rebel at the idea. Like he was somehow weak.

**[Maybe.]**

He grit his teeth, “I don’t know … it’s not … I wasn’t-” Shizuo didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.

“Shit,” he put his head in hands.

He was so goddamn _pathetic_.

Celty placed a hand on his shoulder and he couldn’t help the way he flinched.

“Wait,” Shizuo snapped as Celty quickly withdrew her hand, smoking moving around her uneasy. “Sorry … I-I didn’t mean to."

**[It’s okay … I shouldn’t have done that without asking permission.]**

Celty didn’t need permission to fucking comfort him, she never had before, god Shizuo was total asshole.

He wondered why he hadn’t freaked out when Izaya had kissed him. Sure it hadn’t ended well, but before it had all gone to shit it had been … nice.

_FuckIzayafuckshitfuckingshit._

**[Are you…]**

-Backspace.

**[You saved Izaya’s life that day.]**

**[Do you regret it?]**

“What? _No_!” Shizuo couldn’t even believe Celty could ask him something like that. By the panicked way her shadows moved, neither could she.

**[I just meant … I know you hate him, but you shouldn’t feel bad about saving him.]**

“I don’t.”

**[You did a good thing.]**

“I was fucking useless!” Shizuo finally snapped, his anger twisting the metal railing beneath his hand. “I couldn’t do a goddamn thing … if it wasn’t for Shinra-”

Izaya would be dead.

Shizuo would’ve had to watch him die.

**[Maybe you could take a first-aid course or something?]**

**[You might feel better if you were more prepared for next time.]**

**[Not that I think there will be a next time.]** Celty quickly backtracked.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to do, it’s that he had been so paralysed with fear he _couldn’t_. Even if he was armed with all of the medical knowledge in the world it would’ve made no difference. He said as much, shaking his head lightly.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

**[I’m worried about you.]**

**[Why don’t you come and stay with me and Shinra for a while?]**

Shizuo shook his head harder. Like hell he was going to dump his problems on others more than he’d already had. It wasn’t his friend’s responsibility.

“I’ll be fine … I just need some time.”

It was a lie, but if it made Celty worry a little less than it was worth it.

**[Have you talked to Izaya about this?]**

_Talked to him, kissed him, watch him suck me off…_

“Kinda.”

**[What did he say?]**

_‘The worse thing, was having a monster cry over me.’_

_‘I could almost come hearing you sound like this.’_

Why did Izaya’s hatred and Izaya’s sweet mouth both fill Shizuo with such shame and self-loathing?

“The usual bullshit.” Shizuo grumbled before adding as an afterthought, “Oh, he tried to stab my eyes out .”

**[What!?]** Celty’s shadows leapt. **[Why would he do that?]**

“Why does the flea do anything … he’s crazy.”

So why did Shizuo feel like he was the actually crazy one? He certainly felt like his mind had slipped into full blown insanity.

**[Are you sure you’re going to be okay?]**

No, but Shizuo would never admit that to Celty.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

They chatted a while longer, about less depressing topics, watching the sky fade from blue to yellow. Shizuo gave a half-hearted wave as Celty eventually took off on shooter, promising to catch up with her on his next day off work. His smile felt forced and hollow though.

_I’m just so tired._

He took the long way home, ignoring the disapproving stares he got for smoking while walking and not in the designated zones. The sun was almost gone, the twilight horizon alight with reds and purples, the sparkle of city lights beginning to turn on.

Shizuo entered his apartment, thinking he would skip straight to bed without dinner. His stomach grumbled in protest, but he couldn’t even imagine trying to force something down his throat right now.

He should eat. Or maybe go for a run, listen to some music, do anything other than wallow. It wasn’t healthy, but Shizuo felt too tired to care.

He didn’t even think about it when he pushed through his bedroom door, the action so ingrained in his mind it was automatic.

Which is why the sight of Orihara Izaya in his bed knocked all the air out of his lungs like a punch to the gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, it means the world to me! 
> 
> So, this chapter was a bitch to write, and I blame Izaya fully. He is a complicated dude, and I really struggle to write him in character. So this chapter is basically a little intermission/introspection and it took a hell of a long time to edit, and I’m still not really satisfied with it. All I can say is take everything Izaya has said with a grain of salt, because he is an unreliable narrator and a liar. Hopefully things will be further explained upon next chapter and everything will make sense. 
> 
> Two chapters to go, but I just want to say they may be late as the next two weeks I really need to crack down on my portfolio and final research paper. If only I could write fanfic for a living instead, ay? Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed.
> 
> -Bones.
> 
> P.S. I have actually experienced sleep paralysis a few times in my life (with intruder hallucinations) and hoo boy what a not fun wild ride.


	5. Over Flow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags: implied necrophilia, intentionally triggering someone with trauma, intentionally triggering a panic attack, explicit descriptions of a panic attack

_High, I'm an anxious soul_   
_Blood moons are my eyes, stay low_   
_Red and black, they glow_   
_Under attack, in my soul_   
_When it's my time, I'll know_   
_Never seen a hell so cold_

‘Righteous’ by Juice WRLD

* * *

Shizuo’s breath freezes in his lungs, mouth opened as he rasps for air but he can’t pull any in. His heart is racing, pumping terror through his veins as his body _shakes_.

_Izaya is on the couch. He is dead. He’s dead and the man keeps fucking his lifeless body. Shizuo follows the motion of his head, of his unmoving eyes, up and down, up and down, up and down._

He opens his mouth to scream but nothing comes out, just a wheezing sucking sound as he struggles to just fucking _breathe_.

Izaya is sprawled out on his bed, body motionless as he stares up at the ceiling.

_Whatwhatwhat-_

It doesn’t make sense. Why is Izaya in his bedroom? Why is he fucking **dead**?

“Izaya!”

_Izaya, Izaya, Izaya, Izaya, Izaya._

The name is like a gong in his brain, reverberating around empty walls as Shizuo falls at his side.

“Fuck-,” he’s crying but it doesn’t matter. His hands are shaking but it doesn’t matter.

Trembling fingers press into a pulse point.

_One terrifying second that stops his own heart._

One moment of terror that comes out in a strangled sob.

**_Thump-thump._ **

_That weak caress of air against his cheek._

Shizuo moves over Izaya, turning his cheek to the flea’s mouth and nose.

_Breathe, please just breathe._

Shizuo whole body is tensed like a wire about to snap, desperate for the smallest sign, the slightest brush of air against skin.

Something hot and wet curls up around the shell of his ear and he yelps.

Shizuo throws himself back so violently he half falls off the bed, hand coming to hold his ear where saliva brands his skin like frostbite. He stares up in horror, mouth agape as Izaya slowly sits up, a sly smirk turning the corners of his lips.

“Ah, so it’s true then.”

**What.**

**The.**

**Fuck.**

Shizuo isn’t struggling to catch his breath, because there is no longer any air left in his lungs. Everything stops, nothing else exists, there is only silence.

Izaya makes a show of the way he stretches his arms over his head, as if he was only just waking up from a pleasant catnap.

“You know,” his eyes are burning with that familiar malice that Shizuo would know anywhere, the kind that simmers low in his gut “your bed is not comfortable at all … Ne, Shizu-chan-,”

-Shizuo leaps forward and punches Izaya across the face.

The flea hits the mattress with an ‘oof’, his shock and surprise turning to pure delight.

“Ahahaha,” manic laughter rings in Shizuo’s ears as his chest heaves. Every one of his senses is too sharp, too visceral. He feels almost blinded, his vision filled with black spots as Izaya rolls in his sheets with every lilting note of cruelty, the sound grates against his skin, it crawls and itches, and it’s all too much.

_I can’t breathe._

“That’s more like it _monster_.”

Shizuo’s back hits the ground fully as Izaya tackles him, straddling his waist before placing a knife to his throat and pinning him to the floor.

Shizuo instinctively grabbed the wrist holding the sharp metal against his neck, black bruises pressed into pale skin as he snarls up at the vicious creature above him; it would be more threatening if his entire body wasn’t _shaking_.

_A face pressed into the flea’s neck._

“Shall we pick up where we left off?” It’s only the slightest brush against him, a roll of hips so subtle it could be considered accidental, but Izaya’s mouth is vicious depravity, and Shizuo can’t help but lash out. 

“Get the fuck off me!”

He throws the flea. Shizuo doesn’t even look to see the way his body hits the opposite wall, doesn’t stop to listen to the noise of impact, too busy struggling to just _get away_.

_There’s a stain on Izaya’s jeans and Shizuo can see the dark outline of sick pleasure._

He’s scrambling away, tripping over his own feet as hands come to brace against the wall to stop his fall. He drags himself along, legs barely supporting as he reaches the corner of the room and collapses into it.

“Shizu-chan...”

_Shizuo’s sinking his fists into that man’s face. He feels the way bone breaks under his skin. He sinks his fist into Izaya’s lifeless face, glass eyes shattering._

He scrunches his eyes, desperate to shut it out, but it’s like film burned into the back of his lids. Fingers clutch and pull at the hair on his head, tugging, desperate to ground himself.

_Stopstopstop-_

“Stop!” Shizuo roars and throws his head back.

The wall crunches and crumbles.

_‘I didn’t even get to come inside-‘_

“Stop.” Hit. “Get,” -hit, “out-,”

“-Shizu-chan!”

Izaya’s voice is like static screeching in his ears. He sounds panicked, but that’s not right, because Izaya never panics.

_Izaya’s head jerks, his eyes are wide and unseeing and his mouth is slack and open and he is limp but he **screams**._

It’s Shizuo whose screaming and he hits his head back again and again.

“Stop it!”

_‘Stop fucking crying.’_

Shizuo whole body recoils as Izaya physically wrenches his head away from the wall behind him, fingers digging in with all their strength just in an attempt to slow his violent movements.

“Shizuo!”

Shizuo’s head jerks as Izaya slaps him across the face.

It’s not even that hard, Shizuo barely even feels the sting, but it shocks him, makes his ears ring with silence.

Izaya’s words are also ringing in his head, and it’s strange, how his voice shakes, how he almost sounds _scared_.

It’s the first time Shizuo’s ever heard Izaya like this, not mocking or cruel, but full of emotion, full of _humanity_ , and he can’t help but think, in the most morbid and dark way possible, that it’s kind of funny.

“Hah … hah,” he can’t stop the panting laughter that escapes parted lips, “i-isn’t this what you wanted?”

Shizuo eyes are blurry, he can barely make out the way Izaya frowns, expression unreadable. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, so small and weak. Izaya opens his mouth and hesitates, as if he isn’t quite sure what it is he wants to say.

“I wanted a monster.”

It’s so simple, a final nail in a coffin of Shizuo’s failings. For everyone he’s ever disappointed, every expectation not met, his status as a monster, as the beast of Ikebukuro, his last shred of self-identity, is lost.

These four words, the way Izaya says them, without emotion, yet at the same time almost akin to grief. It’s like he’s _disappointed_. A promise broken that not even Shizuo realised he needed. He feels those words like a physical blow.

The floodgates open, the dam breaks, and all that flows from him is an agonising deluge.

Shizuo curls into the corner, arm thrown over his face as if that could shield him from Izaya. He can’t begin to describe the noise he’s making, a wounded sound, like the wailing of dying animal. It feels like he’s dying, surely he is, no one could feel this much pain and live.

Shizuo can’t help but flinch and press himself even harder into the wall as Izaya sits down next to him. He’s not touching him, but Shizuo can feel his overwhelming presence hovering all the same.

His knees come to his chest and he’s pressing his face into the crook of his arms, wrists coming to rest over his head as he threads fingers once again into his hair, desperate for anything to hold onto.

Shizuo doesn’t know how long he cries. Doesn’t know how long Izaya stays by his side. He says nothing. Watching. Waiting. Shizuo can’t muster up the energy to be grateful for it, can’t even begin to wonder why he’s still here.

The strangled noise coming from his throat eventually dies down to something weaker. The images in his head are abating, his mind too exhausted to continue conjuring them. His body still shakes, but it’s slowing, small little tremors that are no longer constant, like the slow back and forth of a tide.

It’s quiet, his ragged breathing sounds so low in his ears.

“Do you know what sleep paralysis is, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo peeks out from under an arm as Izaya’s voice comes out clear and steady. He’s leaning up against the wall next to him, one knee raised and his other extended; he isn’t looking at Shizuo, rather staring out at the mess of the blonde’s room instead.

Shizuo can see the indent where his body must have hit the wall.

“N-no,” he hates how his voice sounds, hates how familiar it’s becoming.

“Of course you don’t,” Izaya gives a low chuckle, yet there’s no humour in it. “Basically it’s when your mind is awake but your body has yet to catch up to the fact. You can’t move, you’re paralysed…”

Shizuo whimpers quietly, a childish part of him wants to cover his ears with his hands, as if that could block out anything.

If Izaya notices he doesn’t mention it.

“I developed it a few weeks ago… Shinra’s been hassling me about it but it doesn’t affect me other than a few minutes a day.”

Izaya leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, as if he’s reminiscing. “Five minutes a day … that’s not much, ne, Shizu-chan?” His voice lilts upwards, like he’s asking a question but they both know he’s not really looking for an answer.

“Five minutes where I can’t move my body, five minutes of being trapped, of feeling every, little, thing,” Izaya’s eyes snap open, and they are hollow. “Five minutes is _nothing_.”

“Flea…”

“No, let me say this,” Izaya traps Shizuo with eyes so dark they seem to hold entire galaxies within them, black enough to devour him whole. He can’t help but swallow at that look, not sure if he should be afraid of how deep that feeling goes.

“It was all rather boring you know?” He starts, once again tearing his eyes away from Shizuo, as if it’s easier to speak that way. “Not being able to move or speak … and he just kept going _on_ and _on_.”

Shizuo tried to keep his head in the present, tried to keep it from immediately going to that man speaking poison against Izaya’s skin. The only reason he is able to keep the memories at bay is because of the never before heard gravity of Izaya’s voice, it pulls at him, grounds him.

“I didn’t realise it at first … that I wasn’t breathing properly,” Izaya pulled his other leg up, wrapping his arms around them as if he could find some sort of comfort. “Once I finally did, it’s funny, but it was the only thing I could focus on … how agonizingly slow it all was, how _tedious._ ”

He barked a laugh, sharp and cruel, some horror catching his amusement. “I didn’t even need Shinra to say it out loud … I knew I was going to die.”

Shizuo hates it, hates hearing it, hates the way Izaya says it, with a callous, bitter rage. He wants to scream, wants to kick and punch and let his anger take over.

How much terror, how much anguish, must he have gone through? Why did just the thought of it hurt Shizuo so much? Why did any of it affect him like this? What was _wrong_ with him?

Shizuo would give anything to make sure Izaya never experiences anything like that ever again.

“I’ll be the first to admit I’m a coward, and that the thought of dying terrifies me, “-Izaya gripped his arms tighter, a lick of some unnameable emotion in stormy eyes, “and yet I found myself wondering, wishing even, that he would just kill me … better to end it quickly than drag it out, wouldn’t you say?”

Izaya laughs in that same bitter way again, like he’s angry at everything and everyone but at the same time he can’t even bring himself to care. Being that close to one’s own mortality, it must have been agony. Shizuo can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be so scared, yet at the same time preferring death over what was to come. Just how much must it must have twisted Izaya’s mind, warped it to something unrecognisable.

No wonder he was so angry.

Shizuo feels like his very lungs have turned to ice, freezing him head to toe. He lowered his arms, shuffling his feet as if eager to flee, but he has nowhere else to run to.

“And lo and behold, Shizu-chan kicks down my door.” Izaya’s eyes are shining with mania, his motions frenzied. “Here I was, thinking all my prayers had been answered, that if I was going to die at least it would be by my Shizu-chan’s hand. Finally! You would unwillingly grant me the small mercy of a quick death, and my demise at your hands would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are a _monster_.”

Shizuo flinches as Izaya slams a palm against the floor with a flourish. He only feels nauseous, because he cannot possibly comprehend these words, because they’re too sick, too fucked up to contemplate.

“Heh,” and Izaya laughs, high pitched and almost awed, like he can’t quite believe it. “Once again, you defied all my expectations.”

“Flea…”

“You know, you’re surprisingly timid when it comes to witnessing violence … I guess you really do hate it that much despite all your rage and bluster,” Izaya only sounds half mocking, the rest of his expression is thoughtful, as if he had never really believed Shizuo before when he would outright state he hated violence. Izaya’s lips then turn downward, “but I thought you would kill me, I was _counting_ on it … instead you left me to that stagnant torture.”

Izaya sneers the words, and his voice is full of abhorrence as he whispers, “I really hate you for that.”

‘I hate you for saving me’ is what he doesn’t say, but Shizuo knows, and he gets it, truly he does, because if their positions had been reversed, Shizuo isn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t want to be put out of his misery either.

That wasn’t the case however, it had been Izaya, not Shizuo, who had suffered, and compared to what he had gone through, what right did Shizuo have to be so affected? How utterly _selfish_. Izaya had every right to be angry, had every right to hate him, god Shizuo hated himself.

Izaya eyes close and his smirk goes crooked. “A God wishing for death at the hands of a beast, isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?”

Shizuo thinks one of them is pathetic, but it’s not the flea. He tries to make sense of the self-deprecating way Izaya says the words, tries to make sense of the enigma before him.

“And there I was thinking, that things couldn’t possibly get any _worse_.”

And Izaya pins him with blood moon eyes. They burn with hatred and hurt and fire, and Shizuo realises that he hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface.

“I don’t understand you flea.”

Izaya lets out a laugh, and it’s so much different from those earlier notes of cruelty, so much lighter, a melody that almost winds him. Shizuo watches as he exhales, lips parted, and then he’s letting it all go with a sigh. Izaya’s body relaxes, his arms coming back down to his sides, fingers absentmindedly brushing against Shizuo’s outdated carpet. The motion is so mundane, and yet Shizuo is entranced, like he could zone out and just watch that slow back and forth forever.

“Shizu-chan,” Shizuo looks away as if he’s been caught staring, reality crashing back into place. “What was it about that day that was so awful for you?”

Shizuo stares at sock covered feet, watching the way the bones in his ankle move beneath skin as he flexes his toes.

“You-,” he’s surprised at the words that come out. Mind and body rebel against the memories, at bringing up anything about that day, but his mouth moves without permission from either.

“Your-,” he closes his eyes and takes a breath.

_Inhale._

He owes Izaya this much at least.

_Exhale._

“Your head."

“My head?” Izaya repeats Shizuo’s almost whisper. He’s not mocking, just thoughtful.

“Y-yeah … it was … limp but he was-, you kept moving … with the motion.”

“Oh,” and it sounds so small that Shizuo wants to cover his ears again. Just what Izaya must think of him?

Weak. Pathetic. _Disgusting_.

Shizuo knows it makes no sense, it’s such a tiny detail to pick out, but it’s seared into his mind and he _hates_ it.

“What else?”

_Why are you even still here flea?_

“Your eyes, shit … flea I thought you were dead.”

Shizuo’s not quite sure how describe Izaya’s wide eyed expression, as if he’s completely bewildered by Shizuo’s agonised desperation. He doesn’t care what he’s supposed to look like, doesn’t care how he’s supposed to act. Izaya’s already seen him at his worst, so what was the point in trying to hide it?

The truth of the matter was, seeing Izaya like that and thinking he was dead, had been the single most terrifying experience of Shizuo’s life.

Which reminded him.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Shizuo growled, hand going to his ear as if he could still feel the brand of saliva against his skin where Izaya had licked him. “Pulling a stunt like that … what is wrong with you?”

“Ah,” Izaya gave a breathless laugh, “that was rather cruel, wasn’t it?”

Why didn’t Izaya sound like he was sorry at all? Asshole.

“I probably deserved that sucker punch, ne?”

Shizuo huffs, pulling his legs in tighter and ignoring the bright new shiner Izaya’s cheekbone was sporting. It was somewhat comforting, that despite everything, Izaya was still Izaya, still an unbelievable asshole … at least Shizuo could be grateful for that.

“You got off easy … why’d you even do it anyway?”

“Don’t get mad,” -Shizuo shot him an incredulous look. “I just wanted to see proof.”

“Proof of what? That you’re an unbelievable piece of shit?” Shizuo rants, and Izaya’s lips turn up at the corners as he watches the blonde flourish his hands wildly. “Cause I could’ve told you that … fuck, every person in this city could.”

“I guess I was trying to prove to myself that-,” Izaya cuts himself off and stares at Shizuo in such a peculiar way that he feels almost flustered by it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he quickly covers, and Shizuo brow furrows at the sharp turn. He opens his mouth to speak, because he thinks it must matter a whole lot, but then Izaya is speaking over him with a precision befitting someone of his knife skills. “Shizu-chan is the rarest of beasts … a monster with post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Shizuo felt like Izaya had just dropped a bucket of ice water over his head. Sure he had thought it, tossed it around his anxious mind in the wee hours of the night spent awake, but it didn’t seem all that plausible, didn’t seem _real_. Hearing it out loud, said in such a cavalier way, it was nothing short of earth shattering.

_God, I’m pathetic._

“Well, to be honest I was trying to prove that you _didn’t_ have it, but of course Shizu-chan can never do what is expected of him,” Izaya continues on, sounding petulant.

“I’m not…”

“Oh, are we going to pretend you’re not traumatised?” Izaya adds sarcastically and Shizuo can’t help but frown. “Because that’s been working out _so_ _well_ for you.”

“Fuck you.”

Izaya only shrugs, like either way it doesn’t matter to him.

“I didn’t-,” Shizuo starts and stops, he doesn’t quite know what he’s trying to say. “It wasn’t even me flea! _You’re_ the one who was attacked, so why…”

_Why am I the one that got so completely fucked up?_

“Shizu-chan, you do know that bystander PTSD is a very common experience, right?” Izaya’s voice is rich with condescension, and Shizuo glares at being talked down to like an idiot.

“You’re a dick.” Izaya eyebrows raise almost to his hairline, like he’s daring Shizuo to continue. Shizuo mutters out, “I don’t … that’s-that’s something that soldiers get.”

Izaya groans, “you’re honestly the worst, did you know that Shizu-chan? It’s called post-traumatic stress disorder, not post-soldier traumatic stress disorder … I really shouldn’t have to explain something this simple to you.”

Shizuo huffs sullen, muttering under his breath in a very mature way, “ _you’re_ the worst.”

Izaya’s smirk turns twisted, like he hasn’t even begun to show Shizuo just how much of an asshole he can be. “If you’re perfectly fine, then you’ll have no problem telling me what else about my assault _doesn’t_ affect you.”

Shizuo glares at Izaya, wishing that looks could kill, or at least punch annoying fleas for good measure. Shizuo really hated Izaya could be so damn logical all the time. Oh sure, _talking_ about it sounded so simple on paper, yet why did he feel like he could barely form the words? His tongue felt swollen, laying heavy and unmovable in his mouth. 

Hadn’t Izaya tortured him enough? Was this some twisted form of payback?

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it flea.”

Izaya just ignores him though, tone apathetic as he once again asks, “ _what else_?”

Shizuo scrubbed a hand over his face and into his hair, twisting it around his fingers before tugging. “Fuck, I don’t know…”

“Come on Shizu-chan, you’re not traumatised right?” Izaya mocked, his eyes holding nothing but cruelty. “This should be easy for you. After all, wasn’t it fun, watching me get what I deserved? Don’t tell me, were you jealous, that someone got to me first? I bet that must’ve really stung, not being the one to fuck-,”

-Shizuo’s jumping to his feet with a murderous roar as he lashes out at such horror. He picks up the nearest object, his bedside table, and launches it clear across the room. It hits the wall with a resounding thunk, lodging into the plaster, wood splitting and splintering apart. It’s not enough to sate his fury, but he can’t rage against the real cause, because it’s something completely intangible.

A small part of Shizuo knew Izaya had done it on purpose, to enrage him, but knowing didn’t stop him from rounding on the flea, didn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“You want to know what else? All of it! The whole fucking thing!” Shizuo bellowed it, and he could swear the sound of his rage was enough to shake his very apartment. “Kicking down the door and seeing some piece of shit trying to rape your dead body! The dude’s fucking hard on. Your head jerking about and your lifeless eyes. Fuck! I thought you were dead!” -Shizuo’s shouting, hands fisted into his hair and tugging violently. He feels wild, untamed, like now he’s started he can’t stop.

“I couldn’t even do anything. I was just so scared! I couldn’t fucking breathe, and I saw that bastard’s come stain on your leg, and he thought it was such a goddamn-fucking-shame that he hadn’t got to fuck you good and proper. And Shinra tortured that guy and I killed him-,”

-Izaya’s on his feet in front of him, blurred as Shizuo’s face starts to crumble.

“Fuck! I had to do that stupid pump thing because you weren’t fucking breathing. And even after I left I couldn’t fucking escape it all … I’m _terrified_ , every minute of every day, and I don’t even know _why_! And last night … fuck I can’t even remember it without wanting to tear my skin off and it’s not fucking _fair_.”

“Wait,” -Izaya’s hands come to cradle his face, stemming the flow. He tries to turn away, tries to hide the flinch at such a gentle action. “Slow down, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya’s words have turned soft, and never in his wildest dreams did Shizuo imagine the flea could sound like this. He doesn’t know why but it makes something inside _ache_.

Izaya brings Shizuo’s forehead down against his own, that look is back again, the strange one from earlier, the one Shizuo can’t figure out. “Shizu-chan, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Izaya eyes are so, so dark. Shizuo is pulled in, like a star pulls a planet. He nods unconsciously, not able to fight against such gravity.

“You didn’t kill anyone.”

“Oh.”

And that’s really all he can say.

His head is empty of all thoughts and then-,

“Fuck,” the word escapes him in a strangled sound, his eyes closing as pure fucking relief washes over him.

Izaya laughs too, and Shizuo finally gets to feel the weight of that sound against his lips. “Feel better?”

“Y-yeah.” Shizuo feels jittery, relieved exhaustion stuttering through his veins.

“What…” Shizuo opens his eyes again to meet Izaya’s, and he doesn’t know why but he feels slightly more brave. “What happened? Who was he?”

“Does it matter?” Izaya offers.

“No … but I want to know.”

Izaya strokes his cheek with his thumb, and Shizuo feels his chest clench at such a soft gesture. “Okay.”

Shizuo is somewhat disappointed when Izaya steps away from him, but then he’s offering out a hand. He looks from it to him, and Shizuo hesitates. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Izaya to start mocking him, but he meets his eyes again, and there is no hint of a lie, rather, something that has him reaching out. 

Something safe.

Izaya’s hand is warm in his, and Shizuo half wants to intertwine their fingers, but before he can properly acknowledge the thought Izaya is pulling him to the bed.

“Wha-,”

“-Relax,” Izaya shoots a coy look over his shoulder, as if he knows exactly where Shizuo’s mind went. “The floor is uncomfortable, ne?”

Shizuo swallows, he doesn’t know if the thought of being pulled into his own bed by the flea excites or terrifies him.

Both, definitely both.

Izaya lets go of his hand and scoots over to the other side of the bed. He lays down facing the middle, leaving the other half of the mattress to Shizuo. With a moment’s hesitation, Shizuo follows slowly, trembling limbs betraying his apprehension. It takes more effort than he thought himself capable of, the simple act of laying his head on a pillow, body facing inwards towards the flea.

Izaya smiles at him, soft and sweet, and Shizuo’s heart fills more than he ever thought possible.

“Do you remember Junichi-san?” Shizuo forced himself to ignore the way Izaya’s eyes shine out in the darkness, his room bathed in shadows, illuminated only by the street and moonlight.

“The guy you drugged?”

“The very one,” Izaya sounded extremely pleased with himself.

“What about him?”

“Well, Junichi-san is what I like to call a common occurrence in my line of work, nothing more than dot point on a boring to do list, or so I thought…” Izaya added in afterthought, “you’d be surprised how many narcissists I deal with on a day to day basis.”

_Takes one to know one flea._

Shizuo doesn’t say it, but he lets Izaya know from his unimpressed huff exactly what he’s thinking, which of course just make Izaya seem all the more amused.

“They’re frighteningly insecure at the core of it, Junichi-san no exception, which I guess which is why so many of them come to seek me out,” Izaya muses with a sardonic smirk. “At any rate, I’ve dealt with enough of Junichi-san’s kind in my time to believe that this little task would be nothing more than an easy pay check.”

Shizuo’s face scrunched up in distaste, an expression that has Izaya chuckling. The flea really was scum … cute scum that Shizuo sometimes felt all fluttery about, especially watching the animated way in which he spoke, but scum none the less.

“Junichi-san is what I would call an elite drug dealer, almost like a high class whore … he only deals in very specific substances for a very _unique_ clientele,” Izaya laughs at his own phrasing, the self-satisfied prick. His words were riddles among riddles, and yet Shizuo didn’t need to understand completely to know when something was rotten to the core.

_Smells like shit._

“Nevertheless, no matter how small or covert his operation, the fact remains is he was dealing on Awakusu-kai territory and that was an afront to them that could not stand.”

“Is there an actual point to this bullshit flea?” Shizuo snapped, feeling irritated and wholly exhausted. It didn’t take much for him to start questioning whether the past hour had been some weird hallucination. Izaya’s cruelty seemed so much more real than those soft, scare moments Shizuo had just experienced, especially when the flea was reminding him exactly how shitty he could be.

“I’m getting there Shizu-chan,” Izaya said waving off Shizuo’s complaints all too casually, “but it’s important to understand what kind of man Junichi-san is, what kind of man _I_ believed him to be.”

Why did that almost sound like an admission of fault from the flea? His brow was creased, and Shizuo would say he looked almost sullen if he didn’t know any better.

“You see, a thorough amount of research goes into my job, information is key to victory, and I’m not arrogant enough to believe I’m above it,” Izaya’s eyes are shining with mirth at the extremely disgusted look Shizuo throws at him. “However, even I’m not infallible, and I have to say I have a rather bad habit of taking information at face value sometimes, especially when I’m feeling particularly disinterested.”

Shizuo thinks if the situation was any different he would be dancing for joy at the flea admitting to his own shitty failings as a person, but now, having seen the consequences of such a thing, all it does is leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Izaya lets out an annoyed sound, like a mix between a snort and a groan as he rolls over onto his back in a huff. “It was all just so humdrum … Junichi-san was the same human I’ve seen a hundred times before, it didn’t even cross my mind that he could be anything more,” Izaya puts a hand to his temple and a breathless sound comes from him, almost like a laugh.

“I was so happy Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s arm is coming down, revealing dark pools of crimson and a smile so hideous Shizuo feels sickened, “that a someone as insipid as Junichi-san could still surprise me … ah, I truly _do_ love humans.”

Shizuo can only say the first thing that comes to mind, “you’re so fucked up flea.”

Izaya only laughs harder, he really was a twisted and vile little creature.

“What can I say? Never did I believe Junichi-san had the ability to be anything more than tedious … ah, I really wish I had more time to play with him,” -Izaya closed his eyes, expression wistful as if imagining it, “we could’ve had so much fun together.”

Shizuo wants to punch him, shake him, do _something_ , but he is numb with a strange sense of horror. He can remember those same words, said to him a lifetime ago, and yet it felt like yesterday.

Izaya was still Izaya. Still a shitty, manipulative creep. No matter the feelings that made Shizuo’s chest ache and his stomach flutter, there was a 99% chance that everything up until now had been act, that it was all just fucking bullshit.

Though lying to make Shizuo feel better would definitely be a new one.

But Shizuo knew, he just _knew_ , that despite his hateful rhetoric, despite his vile personality, Izaya had been uncharacteristically honest with him tonight. Shizuo might mistrust him, but he trusted in his own instincts, in his ability to read people, more.

_Can’t you believe in that one percent?_

“Ah, where was I?” Izaya sounded breathless, trying to pull his glee back under control. “Yes, the Awakusu-kai … they of course hired their most outstanding informant to track down the upstart bold enough to encroach on their territory,” Izaya puts on an air of importance that previously would have had Shizuo itching to punch his smug face in. He still half kind of wants to, but he settles for rolling his eyes instead.

“Do you know the easiest way to lure out an overconfident man like Junichi-san, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo feels himself frown, oh he’s definitely not liking where this is going. “No.”

Izaya grin turns devious, “it's quite simple … you use bait.”

Oh Shizuo is going to kick his _ass_.

“You fucking-,” Shizuo can’t even speak past gritted teeth, his words turning to something akin to a growl. “What the fuck flea!?”

Izaya only looks amused at Shizuo’s flustered rage, which of course he does.

 _Shittypieceofshitkillkillkill_.

“What can I say, after Junichi-san was tipped off to the Yakuza’s interest in him by yours truly, he was rather ravenous for any information I could feed him. He ate it all up, every little scrap, it was almost too easy to convince him that all he needed to do was confront the Awakusu-kai’s infamous informant and dispose of him, and that it would be smooth sailing thereon out.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shizuo spat out. He’s horrified, furious, at how absolutely stupid and reckless the damn flea was.

Izaya just gives a one shouldered shrug, blasé as ever, “it's not the first time I’ve sold my own information … it’s a simple way to instil a false sense of confidence.”

“Don’t fucking sell your own information in the first place, flea.”

Jeez, Shizuo should not have to tell him this.

“Yeah, yeah,” Izaya waves it off like it’s no big deal. Which is infuriating because it is a big deal to Shizuo. “At any rate, I maybe have slightly underestimated Junichi-san’s ability to surprise me, to my own delight of course.”

“You fucking _think_?”

Izaya only sniggers at Shizuo’s sarcasm. “Well never could I have believed Junichi-san clever enough to blackmail one of his own clients into doing his dirty work for him. I can only assume it was because he wanted the option of having a scapegoat if things went south … after all, that’s what I would’ve done.”

Izaya spoke as if more to himself than Shizuo, as if he was a puppeteer, untangling the threads of the very creations that had sought to destroy their master.

“There is no doubt in my mind, that Junichi-san thought making me suffer would be amusing, but what he failed to realise is that for swift and certain victory, you must leave your opponent with no chance to retaliate … which brings us to Nakamura Takeshi.”

Shizuo doesn’t know why his fists involuntarily clench, doesn’t know why his teeth grind together, or how he just _knows_.

He doesn’t know if it’s worse, knowing his name or not, maybe it would’ve been worse if Shizuo had actually killed him, though right now he’s not feeling particularly sympathetic.

Izaya’s mouth is positively vicious, “such a common name for an uncommon man … a fascinating human in his own right, and yet he wasn’t even on my radar.”

Izaya’s brow pinches, his nose scrunching up, and it’s that annoyed look that Shizuo that likes, the one he does when Shinra teases him; it doesn’t belong in such a vile conversation. 

“I was expecting a confrontation with Junichi-san, I had no reason to suspect my sweet and shy new client, ne?”

Izaya’s words are a revoltingly cute, a hollow imitation of amusement, and Shizuo himself lets out a low growl. 

“Don't … don’t you do background checks on these scumbags or something?”

“Sometimes…” Izaya contemplates, and Shizuo wants to shake some fucking _sense_ into him. “Like I said, I have a bad habit of being easily bored.”

“Oh!” Izaya adds quickly, as if the thought just came to him, “but isn’t it sometimes more exciting to be surprised instead?”

“You-,” arrogant, suicidal, reckless, _asshole_.

Izaya really is going to give Shizuo a stroke one of these days.

“Did you just let this guy waltz into your apartment?” Shizuo can’t believe that Izaya, intelligent to an almost annoying level, could be this stupid.

“Pretty much,” Izaya’s laughter is caustic, “I even served him tea and everything … he was a perfectly polite guest beforehand _...”_

_Son of a-fucking-bitch._

Shizuo can see it his head, the carefully calculated smiles served over tea, the cordial behaviour between professionals, an act that smells like _shit_.

“Nakamura is a man with very particular proclivities, even among rapists and killers his kind is not one I’ve encountered before. Oh, don’t get the wrong idea Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s grinning like he does when speaking about particularly disgusting things, “Nakamura made sure I knew despite being forced into the situation, he was going to _thoroughly_ enjoy himself.”

_I should’ve killed him, should’ve **crushed** him._

“I wasn’t his first, but I was probably the first to survive … let’s just say that overdose was no accident, Nakamura told me he actually preferred it that way.”

“Fuck, _flea_.”

Shizuo’s trembling, with rage or horror he doesn’t know. If he heard any more of the words that piece of shit had spoken to Izaya’s unmoving body he would forget all about his relief and track down the man and rip his head off.

Izaya’s smirk has frozen almost to a grimace. He looks away to the ceiling for a moment, as if he almost regrets saying that last part, if only for the way it made Shizuo tremble.

“Anyway,” Izaya restarts after that slight misstep, “after Nakamura’s interlude with you and Shinra, he was dumped at a hospital where he was treated for his wounds and expected to make a full recovery.”

_Expected…?_

“Ah, here’s the part I like the most,” Izaya closes his eyes for a moment, a sick look of satisfaction crossing his face. “Nakamura was taken to the same hospital Junichi-san worked at.”

“Wait…” Shizuo needed a few moments to put it all together, to put _himself_ together, “he’s a doctor?”

“Mmhmm,” Izaya hummed, eyes filled with sick delight. “Narcissists really do gravitate to positions of power; how else do you think he got medical grade narcotics? He’s been stealing from hospitals for years and no one had ever caught on.”

“So what happened next,” Shizuo put an arm under his pillow and watched Izaya mirror his position with a little thrill.

“ _Well_ ,” Izaya said theatrically, almost as he was enjoying having an audience a little too much. “Junichi-san’s failures were starting to pile up you see … he failed to kill me, failed to predict it, and I have no doubt in my mind that he was beginning to realise that Nakamura was beyond his capabilities of controlling. All these blows to his fragile little ego … he eventually begun to panic.”

Izaya gives a high pitched laugh full of disgusting glee, “humans really are so precious, especially when they panic and lose all rationality; like mice scurrying around. If Junichi-san had simply stayed calm things may have turned out differently, but he feared Nakamura, feared what he might do, probably thought he would possibly go to the cops and tell them everything … which when you think about it is ridiculous because Nakamura would have never invited such scrutiny onto himself. At any rate, Nakamura was a loose end that needed tying.”

Izaya’s eyes are hooded and _dangerous_.

“So Junichi-san killed him.”

“What!?”

Izaya gives a sharp bark of laughter, as if he’s just delivered a devastatingly witty punchline, “an overdose of _Vecuronium_.”

Shizuo was speechless, eyes wide in shock as malice and cruelty dance in Izaya’s eyes. Shizuo thinks again that he’s never actually seen the flea get truly serious. It now all seemed like some sort of big joke, all of their fights. Had Izaya ever come at him with the intention to actually kill? Looking back, it didn’t seem like it to Shizuo, not compared with the way Izaya looked now, when he talked about the two people that had tried to murder him.

“Isn’t that just the most ironic and human thing you’ve ever heard?” Izaya’s gaze is soft and heated, and yet there is a mania to it, a wrongness, that twists Shizuo’s guts into knots and he can taste bile in the back of his throat. “It’s an almost storybook ending, a true villain receiving a poetic comeuppance … **Nakamura died paralysed and choking.”**

If Izaya was laughing before, he’s practically howling now. He throws his head back, body shaking head to toe as he slung an arm around his waist, as if he could hold in the sound. He’s insane, Shizuo thinks as he watches the way Izaya’s eyes shine with unshed tears.

Though, Shizuo doesn’t blame him for it. He can't.

“Isn’t that just _perfect_!?” He rolls back towards Shizuo with the words. “Even I couldn’t have hoped for better, a righteous and divine judgement befitting of a **God**.”

“Flea…”

“Ah, don’t going get all moral on me now, Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s voice is almost breathless, but at least his sick joy has died down to something a little more controlled. “You can’t tell me you’re not happy he’s dead.”

“None of this bullshit makes me happy flea,” he growls out, Izaya’s smirk remaining smug despite the contempt in Shizuo’s eyes. “This entire situation is fucked up!”

Izaya doesn’t acknowledge Shizuo’s disdain with anything other than silent mockery. He sighs, knowing as far as he’s got with Izaya tonight, it would be unrealistic to think he would get _that_ far.

_You really are 99 percent rotten, flea._

“What happened to the dealer?” Shizuo asked slowly, not sure he wanted to really know the answer.

“Ah, well lucky for me, even if Junichi-san did manage to have some tricks up his sleeve he was still pathetically dim-witted, and you’d be surprised how hard working I can be with the right motivation.”

_I bet, you vengeful little shit._

“I took a leaf out of Nakamura’s book, posing as someone with peculiar tastes that only Junichi-san’s wares could match. It helped he had no idea what I actually looked like, or that his online ‘friend’ was in fact the very informant set to deliver him to the yakuza. You’d think knowing of Nakamura’s failure would make him more cautious, but due to his panic, it was almost too easy to lure him into a trap of my own choosing.”

“Anyway I drugged him, with Vecuronium of course, it was only fitting,” Izaya’s bared teeth visible behind a depraved smile. “Of course I didn’t give him an overdose, I may be many things but a murderer is not one of them.” Shizuo can’t help but scoff at that, which Izaya replies with a knowing grin.

“The Awakusu-kai was more than happy to pick him up, and I was assured that after some very unpleasant questioning,” -Izaya looks particularly delighted about that, sadistic bastard, “-that Junichi-san is now feeding the fishes in Tokyo Bay.”

“And that’s that?” Shizuo asked disbelieving.

“That’s that.”

“What fucken bullshit.”

“Hah,” Izaya snickered at Shizuo’s point blank response. “I thought it tied up all rather neatly, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No,” Shizuo deadpanned. “You know, for someone so smart, you’re real fucking stupid sometimes flea.”

Izaya blinks slowly, a bemused expression on his face at being both complimented and insulted in such a straightforward, Shizuo-way. Though it’s not enough to stop his shitty face from turning devious, lilt sarcastic as he speaks, “oh, please continue Shizu-chan, I’m sure this is bound to be enlightening.”

Shizuo growled, “well for one thing this entire thing could’ve been avoided if you weren’t so goddamn _reckless_.”

Izaya chuckles, “I’ve been fighting with you for nigh on a decade and you’re only just realising this now?”

“Shut up, asshole.” Shizuo snapped, before adding, “and don’t ever sell your own information again or I will kick your ass.”

Shizuo glares because Izaya is doing that thing where he acts like he’s trying not to laugh, but doing a piss poor job of it on purpose, just to for the sake of riling him up. “I’m serious flea, if not for yourself than at least for-,” Shizuo cuts himself off, realising what he was just about to say.

_At least for me._

Izaya no longer looks amused, and frankly it’s kind of scary the way his eyes narrow into almost slits. Lips purse, as if there’s a thousand of things he wants to say but he doesn’t know which one to start with. Shizuo’s sure he’s trying to find the words that will hurt the most.

“I guess when it comes to you,” Izaya starts and Shizuo can’t help but swallow, readying himself for a blow, “that I may have miscalculated.”

Huh. Shizuo has no idea what _that_ means but it’s definitely a lot better than he was expecting. He searches Izaya’s expression, not sure exactly what he’s looking for. Izaya doesn’t speak for a moment, only staring back with that strange look from earlier.

“Can I touch you?”

Shizuo is slightly taken aback, shocked at such a straightforward request, yet spoken so softly, as if Izaya was _insecure_.

He’s still trying to wrap his head around this curious new expression the flea wears, a look that is completely foreign to Shizuo. Izaya’s brow furrowed almost painfully, his eyes dark and unknowing, holding back secrets that Shizuo wishes to reach for. There’s no malice held in the lines of his face, none of the familiar sarcasm curling his lip to a sneer … it’s a weirdly open expression.

Vulnerable.

Shizuo doesn’t trust himself to speak, nodding once and trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. He kind of feels floaty and terrified all at the same time.

Izaya reaches out a hand slowly towards him and Shizuo feels himself tense up. Brown eyes meet his, searching for something, and Shizuo tries to appear a little less like a startled deer in headlights. Realistically there is no way Izaya could ever physically do much damage to him, yet Shizuo still feels as if just the lightest breeze could break him right now.

Izaya’s arm bridged the gap between them, coming to meet Shizuo’s closed fist that lay before him. Fingers brush against the rough skin of his knuckles, and Shizuo’s heartbeat is so loud in his ears he swears Izaya must be able to hear it. It’s strange, they did so much more last night, and yet Shizuo feels so completely laid bare by this small action. 

Izaya isn’t looking at him anymore, instead watching the way he traces the lines of Shizuo’s knuckles as if it requires the utmost attention. It frees Shizuo to stare without judgement, and all he can feel is this strange sense of awe at the expression on Izaya’s face.

He looks _reverent_.

Shizuo can barely believe his eyes, can’t even begin to understand such a look … all he knows is that Izaya is the most beautiful being he’s ever seen, especially when looking at him like this.

There’s a sadness to it too though, that earlier hint of grief that makes that same thing in Shizuo ache again. He wants to uncurl his fist, wants to intertwine their fingers, but he’s too afraid to speak let alone move.

“I was surprised you know,” Izaya begins, whispering to the circles he traced over Shizuo’s skin. “That you showed up, it was the last thing I was expecting.”

Shizuo doesn’t know if he hates the frown on Izaya’s features or not, doesn’t know whether the flea is speaking relief or regret, or if it’s all just too bittersweet to taste.

“More than that, your reaction to it…”

_‘The worse thing, was watching a monster cry over me.’_

It aches, how lost Izaya looks right now.

“I didn’t anticipate how much it would affect me.”

Shizuo is trapped by wide eyes. Brown russet turned dark, each individual speak of crimson too many to count, lights that shine out like an array of stars in the night sky, slowly being threatened by an expanding black hole. He’s falling into those eyes, drowning, being devoured whole as a the air catches in his lungs, exposing every secret and insecurity he’s ever held.

No one has ever looked at him like Izaya is looking at him right now, not with such depth … like he can’t quite believe Shizuo is _real_.

It takes his breath away.

“It’s strange,” Shizuo’s too stunned to react when Izaya’s fingers move from his fist to his forehead. Izaya gaze goes back to watching the motions, whiskey eyes following the way his fingers slowly trail from Shizuo’s temple down to the curve of his jaw, before moving back up to repeat the action all over again.

“During, it was,” Izaya frowns, as if trying to find the right words, “unpleasant … but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

_Flea._

“I should’ve been ecstatic to see you like that, overjoyed that an abhorrent monster was suffering,” Izaya’s eyes are a raging storm and Shizuo is lost in them. “So why wasn’t I? Why did it _hurt_?”

Izaya’s voice is breaking.

Shizuo feels the way Izaya tenses, as if to pull away, and his own hand is coming to rest over his, grip unbreakable. “Flea...”

“I really hated that, you know? Hated seeing you like that, hated how it made me _feel_. I wanted to kill you, God you have no idea how much I wanted to,” Shizuo barely feels the way Izaya’s nails scratch against his face, as if a part of him still wants to dig in and rip Shizuo apart.

“And now you’re like _this_ ,” Izaya’s voice remains level, yet with each utterance that laid his soul bare, it sounded hoarse, like he had screamed every word, “and I have to see it over and over again. It’s like a nightmare that never fucking ends.”

“Flea,” Shizuo can’t help the way he pleads, “ _Izaya_.”

“I wanted to prove seeing you suffer made me happy, I wanted to prove to myself that I felt nothing … but watching you like this, I don’t understand it, I hate it,” Izaya’s composure is collapsing before Shizuo’s very eyes, “you’ve ruined _everything_!”

Shizuo’s moving without thinking, he twists his fingers between Izaya’s, moving their joined hands to cradle the others cheek. He’s lips are pressing soft against skin, against cheeks and eyelids and lips, kissing every inch of that crumbling face, as if he could kiss all that pain away. He can taste salt, can taste the way Izaya trembles under him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo says his name like a prayer. His mouth is moving to their joined hands, a soft and sweet caress of lips against Izaya’s palm, murmuring his name into skin.

He moves his lips to Izaya’s wrist now, pressing against the pulse point as shoots a coy glance up. Izaya huffs a broken laugh as their eyes meet, “Shizu-chan really is completely incomprehensible … you’re _supposed_ to hate me.”

“I know,” Shizuo replies with another soft kiss, “but that doesn’t mean…”

He didn’t even realise he had closed his eyes, quickly opening them and taking in Izaya’s wide eyed apprehension.

It doesn’t mean what?

_It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you, and hold you, and make sure no one ever hurts you again._

_It doesn’t mean I don’t love you._

“Forget it,” Shizuo huffs, feeling foolish. He backs away slightly, only just realising now with slight mortification what he had been doing.

_I really can’t think clearly around you flea._

Izaya’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he looks particularly haughty, ready to open his mouth and no doubt say something shitty so Shizuo cuts over him.

“-Look, it’s not like I don’t still want to beat the hell out of you, you’re annoying as fuck Izaya,” Shizuo’s glare narrows as the flea’s lips turn crooked with amusement. “I guess I just don’t want to see you dead anymore, is all.”

“Is that your idea of a confession, Shizu-chan?”

“Fuck-,” Shizuo didn’t even get the insult out before Izaya’s shitty smirking face is meeting his again, foreheads coming to rest together with a small ‘bonk’. It’s the second time that night Izaya’s stole his move, and Shizuo would punch his face in if it wasn’t so undeniably endearing.

“You really are the worst, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya is _smiling_.

It’s a small thing, slightly crooked and still a little mischievous, but unlike the other patronising smirks Shizuo’s come to know, this one affects Izaya whole face, like he’s smiling with his entire being.

Shizuo’s brain is mush, unable to think past the single dimple on Izaya’s left cheek; he wants to kiss it, _bite it_. This smile reaches all the way to his eyes, the corners scrunching just a little as those crimson stars dance like lights within dark pools.

Shizuo never wants to see this smile stop.

They’re silent for a few minutes, Izaya’s mirth dying down to something comfortable. Shizuo lets Izaya pull their intertwined hands down between them, fingers held loosely as he watched the way Izaya traces along his knuckles.

He moves to the duvet beneath them, making a path through the patterned fans and cherry blossoms splashed across the material before heading back over Shizuo’s hand. He has long, elegant fingers, pale yet graceful, and Shizuo knows just how deadly they can be, with a knife twirled between them and a Cheshire grin to match. That same playfulness is present now, yet the situation couldn’t be further from. 

“Can I ask you a question, Shizu-chan?”

“I think we’re way past that flea.”

Izaya chuckles at his sarcastic response. Shizuo finds himself chasing the fingers scurrying over his own, making a sort of game out of it. Izaya finally manages to pin his thumb down, and two fingers start a lazy stroke over his palm.

Shizuo feels a shiver go through him at the action.

“Why did you do it?”

_Why did you save me?_

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Why, after all the years of hatred, of rage and violence, when the moment had come, why hadn’t Shizuo killed Izaya? Why had he _saved_ him? It would’ve been so easy, he wouldn’t have had to even do _anything_. Could’ve just stepped back, could’ve just left. Shizuo had wracked his brain for the past month, asking this very question.

“I don’t know,” Shizuo knows it’s not real answer, but if Izaya’s annoyed he doesn’t show it, just continues to stare down at the slow back and forth of his fingers against Shizuo’s palm. “I wasn’t really thinking all that much.”

Izaya snorts at that and Shizuo’s expecting a response, some typical flea-like sarcastic comment, but all he gets is silence. It’s strange, the feeling of being listened to, and by the flea of all people. It gives Shizuo a chance to gather his thoughts, to form a response.

“At-t the time,” Shizuo can feel the way his voice shakes in his throat, “I was just s-so … so _scared_.”

Shizuo squeezes his eyes shut, as if that could block everything out. Speaking about it, it’s like everything coming back in a flood, the memories stark against the back of his lids. He seeks out the steady movement against his hand, Izaya’s skin on his, almost like a grounding mechanism.

He opens his eyes to find Izaya staring back at him, eyes wide, bemused and bewildered, teeth clenching as if it’s painful. Shizuo wants to turn his head and hide from that look, it’s almost too much. He feels defenceless under that mystified gaze, exposed and naked. Can’t begin to even contemplate what exactly is going through Izaya’s head.

“All I could think about, was that you wouldn’t be in my life anymore,” tears press out as he shuts his eyes, “and that scared me more than anything.”

He _hated_ it, the thought of all those years of fighting, made worthless in mere seconds. The potential to be more, snatched away so cruelly before they had even gotten the chance to _try_. And Shizuo wanted to try, has to, because it has to amount to _something_.

“Hmm,” Izaya makes a thoughtful noise, “I guess it’s true what they say … there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

Shizuo laughs at that, it’s shakes and cracks, breathless and self-deprecating. He turns his head to his pillow, scrubbing tears and snot away onto the fabric before opening his eyes again. Izaya has that cute pinched look on his face, as if he’s completely disgusted by Shizuo’s very existence.

It’s a look of fondness.

“Last night,” Shizuo swallows as Izaya begins, memories as heated as the warm breathe against his face, “did you have a flashback?”

“I don’t know,” Shizuo hates how uncertain he sounds, but to be honest he’s not exactly sure what happened.

“Then explain it to me,” Izaya’s sincerity fails when he adds, “I’ll try to follow your brain’s single cell logic the best I can.”

Ugh. Shizuo wants to punch him in his cute face. But to be honest, Izaya’s ability to bring humour and sarcasm into the situation is actually kind of grounding. In a weird, flea-way.

“It … it wasn’t you flea, I mean it _was_ -,” Shizuo instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say if the way Izaya’s movements freeze is any indication. His hand tightens around Izaya’s, fearing the flea would pull away.

_Fuck. Shut up._

“I mean … it was good flea, fuck it was so good, and you were, shit, you were so…” Shizuo closed his eyes as if savouring it, before finding Izaya’s again. The flea is looking less disappointed at least, eyebrows raised to his hairline and crooked smirk turning self-satisfied. His eyes shimmered with that annoying flea-smugness and Shizuo’s not sure if he wants to punch him or kiss him. Bastard.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts of the way Izaya licked into his mouth last night.

“I wasn’t even thinking about it, but then you were-,” Shizuo gulps and he really wishes Izaya looked a little less pleased with himself, “on your knees and the motion … I don’t know, it wasn’t even that similar, but my brain just snapped back there for some reason.”

Shizuo wasn’t quite sure how to explain the fucked up way his mind worked, he wants to hunch in on himself, to try and at least protect himself from the memories.

“Hmm,” Izaya makes a noncommittal sound, but at least he’s not mocking. “And in the alley?”

Shizuo can only give a meek nod in reply.

“Are you ashamed?”

Shizuo bit his lip, not sure what to say that. His silence is answer enough, but instead of mocking him, of aiming for that sore spot like he had in the past, Izaya only sighs. “Shizu-chan, do you think if I was suffering from trauma symptoms, that I should feel ashamed?”

“No!” Shizuo almost shouts it, before his voice turns soft, “of course I wouldn’t flea.”

“Then why is it so hard for you to accept?”

“ _Because_ ,” Shizuo snapped wild eyes on Izaya. “I shouldn’t be this weak! What is the point of all this fucking strength if I can’t even handle something like this!?”

Shizuo snatches his hand away from Izaya’s and sits up, turning his body from the flea’s. His rage is boiling, and he’d rather not demonstrate that indomitable physical strength by crushing Izaya hand.

“Shizu-chan,” Shizuo flinched as Izaya’s chin comes to rest on his shoulder from behind. He feels puffed, like he’s just thrown a hundred vending machines across the city. He tries to bring the rage back down to a simmer, tries to focus on the warm body pressed against his.

Shizuo glances to the side at Izaya, who is looking unfairly innocent hanging off his shoulder like that. Oaky eyes dark as whiskey capture his, closing momentarily as he breathes in Shizuo’s scent.

“I can’t believe I’m the one who has to tell you this,” Izaya’s eyes open and narrow into a particularly withering stare, “but your self-hatred is not doing you any favours.”

Shizuo can only stare at Izaya stunned, his mouth hanging open.

“I think you need to stop being so hard on yourself Shizu-chan … you need to learn forgive yourself.”

Forgive himself?

Shizuo’s gaze turned down to clenched fists in his lap. Did he need to forgive himself? He wasn’t to blame for Izaya’s assault, if he was sure of one thing it was that at least _that_ wasn’t his fault … so what was there to forgive?

Guilt.

He blames himself, Shizuo realises, not for the assault, but for the way it’s affecting him, blames himself for his trauma.

And it’s not just the trauma, but his strength, his rage, the people he’s let down, the people he’s _hurt_.

The idea of forgiving himself, for any of it, of assuaging himself of the guilt and shame even just a little, is inconceivable. 

“That’s,” he rasps out, his voice hoarse with unshed tears, “ _I can’t_.”

Izaya’s arms snake around his waist, a handing wrapping gently around his closed as he whispers against the back of his neck, “I really hate seeing you like this … I want Shizu-chan to get better so I can stop feeling like this.”

What an incredibly selfish son of a bitch, Shizuo doesn’t know what he was think-,

“-I don’t want you to suffer anymore because of me.”

The words are accompanied by a soft brush of lips against skin, a chaste kiss pressed like silk to the back of his neck that sends shivers through his body.

_‘Why did it hurt?’_

_‘It’s like a nightmare that never fucking ends.’_

Shizuo’s feels his fists unfurl, tension loosening as he presses fingers gently against Izaya’s. His hand is like a weight in Shizuo’s, warmth intertwining, spreading, it’s almost like he can feel it travelling up his arm, can feel it piercing through the coldness of his chest.

Shizuo was so fucking stupid.

Izaya was hurting, _because of him_.

This suffering, this _trauma_ , Shizuo wasn’t the only one in pain.

_I don’t want to hurt him anymore._

_I don’t want to hurt anymore either._

Shizuo’s grips the fingers between his, a lifeline as he lets a wet sound.

“I … I don’t know if I can … I want it to stop, I want it to stop hurting so much, but, _I don’t know what to do_.”

Shizuo’s chest shudders against the weight on his back, the warmth that wraps around him, no doubt Izaya can feel the wetness that falls onto their intertwined hands.

He’s using too much strength, it must be painful, but he can’t seem to pry his hand apart from the one in his.

Izaya’s _holding_ him.

Shizuo is terrified that he will let go.

“Shizuo,” Izaya’s words are soft against skin.

Shizuo hates the way his body trembles as Izaya’s hand comes up to his chin, hates how his body doesn’t even fight as the other forces his head to lift and turn towards him.

Shizuo squeezes his eyes shut, he can’t look at Izaya right now, not through a haze of tears and shame. He’s scared he will see hatred in those ruby eyes, see disgust. If he kept his eyes closed than maybe he could just pretend a little longer.

“I’ll help you.” Shizuo can’t stop a whimper at the words that are spoken against his temple; lips press in, the heat of them scalding against his frozen skin. “You’re not alone Shizuo.”

Shizuo’s crumbling into Izaya, hands twisting the fabric of his shirt as he burrows into the flea’s neck. The need to be held, to be _soothed_ , far outweighs any fear Shizuo might have of being rejected.

Arms come up around him, fingers slipping into his hair as he makes a mess of Izaya’s shirt. Shizuo can feel the way Izaya tucks his head under his chin, the way he strokes through Shizuo’s hair with slow precise motions. He feels like he’s suspended in time, and yet he would give anything to make this moment last forever.

“Flea…” Shizuo doesn’t lift his head to speak, feeling altogether mortified that he’s practically hiding like a child in the crook of Izaya’s neck.

“That’s the nicest shit you’ve ever said to me.”

There’s a breathless sound against his head, and Shizuo can feel the way Izaya’s body shakes slightly, a chuckle reverberating through him.

“Please stop saying such disgusting things, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya’s voice is soft and fond as he replies and Shizuo can’t help but snort. “You said them first.”

Shizuo feels the laughter again, harder this time, and he can’t help the smile he presses secret against Izaya’s skin.

The pain and fear still lingered, the weight on his shoulders had not lifted, but right now, in Izaya’s arms, it was all just a little bit lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it’s been a hot minute. I am so sorry this took so long to come out, it’s been a rough couple of months and I haven’t had any time to stop and think let alone write. Thank you for all of your kind comments and kudos, they really kept me going and motivated me to not abandon this.
> 
> This chapter was a monster to edit, I spent hours working on it. To me, it’s the most important chapter, the climax, so I was determined to get it right. We finally got some comfort among all the hurt, and man I just love writing these boys being -soft-. Shizuo is such a total simp for Izaya, and Izaya, oh man where to even begin.
> 
> I guess my thinking for this chapter (and this fic in general), was that the core of Izaya’s character is that he is unable to form emotional connections with other people. His ‘I love humans’ really just being code for ‘I am indifferent towards people’, and this is his main defence mechanism, that without this human connection, he is unable to be hurt. Shinra and Shizuo are two anomalies in this regard. Izaya has a connection to Shizuo whether he wants to admit or not, one of hate, jealousy, violence, etc, but a strong emotional connection none the less. So seeing Shizuo suffer, one of the rare people he has an emotional connection with, hurt him deeply. He hated being confronted with the depth of that connection and his own emotions. I also think his assault affected him deeper than he would like to admit, so latching onto those feelings, blaming Shizuo, is definitely his twisted way of dealing with it. However, trying to prove that he didn’t care about Shizuo really backfired on him big time, heh.
> 
> Anyway, I don’t know when the next chapter will be up, it’s an epilogue of sorts and will be filled with healing, comfort, tiny bit of angst, and maybe even some spice~! I will try to get it out soon though.
> 
> Once again thanks again for reading and stay safe. Feel free to yell at me about Shizaya (or anything) on [tumblr](http://lavenderboneswrites.tumblr.com/).
> 
> -Bones.


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